Light My Candle
by Moondancing Millie
Summary: Jesse has been in love with Susannah for as long as he can remember. Now in their second year at college together, it seems like he can finally admit his feelings...before Biology teacher Paul Slater comes along to ruin everything. [SJ] [PS]
1. Susannah Simon

**A/N Yes, another fic! This is just a trial run - I love the idea of this, but you know, some people might not. This is told from Jesse's POV, all the way through. Please let me know what you think - even if its not particularly positive.**

* * *

_Hollybridge Heights Campus Rules_

_**TO BE FOLLOWED AT ALL TIMES – NO EXCEPTION**_

_1. No food is to be taken into the classrooms and only __bottled water__ is permitted._

_2. Address every teacher as "Professor", followed by their surname._

_3. No graffiti is allowed on files, textbooks, or notebooks._

_4. Uniform is to be worn at a high standard._

_5. Raise your hand when answering or asking a question._

_6. No foul language is accepted in the classroom environment._

_7. Arrive on time to every lesson fully equipped._

_8. Vulgar behaviour such as displays of affection and violence are not tolerated on campus._

_9. Any punishments handed out must be accepted with no comments._

_10. There will be no student-teacher relationships at Hollybridge Heights._

**Failure to comply with these rules will result in suspension, or expulsion.**

**Penelope Hollybridge, Headmistress of Hollybridge Heights.**

Chapter One

_Discontinuous variation – sometimes known as categorical variation – must be displayed as a bar graph as there are no intermediates. An example of discontinuous variation would be eye colour – the categories being blue, brown, green and grey._

Susannah Simon tossed the flimsy piece of paper onto the table in front of her in disgust, and spun around to talk to me. "Hey, Jess," she hissed, and our professor frowned at Susannah's lack of attention. "What a load of crap, right?"

"_Querida_," I whispered, and I tried to gesture with my head for her to swivel around in her seat to face the front again, as if her lab partner's frustrated poking wasn't doing the trick. "I think maybe we should talk _after_ class." Susannah pouted, and turned around, placing both hands demurely on the desk.

"Glad you have deemed my class interesting again, Miss Simon," Professor Lipman said, and she shuffled her notes on her desk. "For a moment there I thought your social life with Mr De Silva was more appealing." Somebody wolf-whistled and I blushed brilliantly. Susannah, however, merely laughed and shrugged. I always admired her for that.

I finished my notes with a flourish, and inserted the neat piece of paper into my ring binder carefully, shutting the folder with a soft click. Susannah lifted up her ink-splattered work as she rummaged in her bag for her bent file and shoved today's notes in roughly, before spectacularly dropping her file to the floor with a loud _thwack, _scattering papers everywhere.

I climbed off my stool and knelt down to help her swiftly; aware Professor Lipman was casting several thousand disapproving looks our way. I collected Susannah's pages in a tidy pile, and handed them back to her. She stuffed them into her bag, smiling at me. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end.

"Class dismissed," our professor declared finally, and Susannah was first out of the door. "Please remind yourselves that starting tomorrow you will have a substitute!" Susannah waited impatiently outside for me to follow her, tapping her foot absent-mindedly and chewing her bottom lip, turning it red.

"Susannah," I said, kindly, and she took my arm as we began walking down the corridor towards the courtyard for the break we had in between classes. "Don't chew your lip. It will get chapped, and I know how you hate having to apply lip balm." She shook off my words, barely listening.

"You threw away that piece of crap, right?" she demanded instead, referring to the list of school rules Mrs Hollybridge had thought it necessary to issue us with first lesson this morning. Evidently she had hoped for a more positive response than Susannah's. I patted my breast pocket nervously, where the offending piece of paper sat, neatly folded.

"You mean Mrs Hollybridge's rules?" I asked her, as we turned a corner. The science block at Hollybridge was immensely vast – Science being the main subject here at the university – and it took at least ten minutes on a good day to escape the musty smells of carpet cleaner and mothballs. "Ah, no. I decided to keep them for Marta, because you know she's applying here this fall-"

"You mean so that you can tack it to your wall and memorize each and every one of them before you go to bed each night in your dorm?" Susannah corrected teasingly, and I sighed. She may be the most beautiful woman I will ever meet – even in the Hollybridge garb we are forced to don she still looks like a movie-star – but she is often the least sensitive. She squeezed my arm. "Jesse De Silva, you are a square."

I pursed my lips, and we entered the courtyard, inhaling the cool New Hampshire air – it was unusually cold for so early in the school year – and we took our typical bench opposite the archway, so that Susannah could see the gym, and all those that attended the extra-curricular sports activities religiously. She looked at me, and burst out laughing. "Oh, Jesse, you're not still upset about it, are you? I meant of course that you are an adorably cute square." I couldn't help but laugh, and she planted a kiss on my cheek that ended too soon.

From the fateful day Susannah had moved from Brooklyn to Carmel, she had been my best friend. After being surrounded by the usual flock – Kelly Prescott, Debbie Mancuso, Bryce Martinson, all of which were eager to hear about the metropolitan New York – she had pushed them all aside to speak to me – the quiet geek that nobody spared much thought to. And at that instant, when she sat beside me and asked me my name, I fell deep into her green, green eyes.

And now I suppose it goes without saying that I am irresponsibly, irreversibly and irrevocably in love with her.

She sat now, with her long shiny hair tied back with an emerald ribbon, and her legs crossed haphazardly underneath her regulation black pleated skirt. She had thrown aside her black blazer with the Hollybridge emblem, and was now hurriedly untucking her mint green blouse. Once satisfied, she pulled a notepad from her bag.

"So did you get any of what Professor what's-her-job was saying?" she asked me, plucking a biro from her pencil-case and turned to me. "Homophobic, homosexual, homo-"

"Homeostasis," I answered for her, with a laugh. "The physiological processes that allow an organism to maintain its internal environment notwithstanding its external environment. Weren't you listening at all?"

Susananh shook her head. "Sounded like baloney to me," she replied. "Can you repeat all of that? Slowly, and in English?"

"Why are you taking Biology, Susannah?" I quizzed her, and she pressed her biro a bit too hard onto the paper and caused a large hole to appear. "It's obvious that you hate it more than you hate oranges."

"Hey!" Susannah cried, throwing her pen into the air in protest. "Biology isn't that bad. It's not like it has pips in it or anything."

"It's only not that bad because you refuse to listen to anything Professor Lipman says," I said. I pointed at her notepad. "Organism, not orgasm."

Susannah scribbled her words out furiously, and began writing again. "I need a man," she decided, chewing on the lid of her pen – for once, instead of her own lip. "A nice man. A man that buys me flowers every day of the week."

"Would those flowers happen to be orchids?" I asked her, and she smiled.

"Of course! What kind of man that loves me would consider any other kind?" she demanded, and I shrugged, imitating her earlier action. "Its orchids or no flowers. Do you think you could drill that into the guy's head, when he comes along? That way, I can pretend that he was perfect all by himself?"

_The perfect man for you is already here_, I thought desperately, and I took her hand, separating each finger and examining it. _Right here, holding your hand._

Susannah's eyes narrowed and I followed her gaze across the courtyard, to see a man who looked no older than I or Susannah, sitting on another bench eating an apple whilst talking animatedly on the phone. He was dressed in a dark suit – unusual for students, perhaps he was just a visitor – and his brown and blonde-speckled hair gleamed in the wan sunlight. He smiled – obviously in response to whatever he had heard on the phone, but I felt Susannah's pulse race as I held her wrist.

I looked at my watch, for want of something to do. It was ten-twenty-five. Our next class began in five minutes. "Come on," I whispered, pulling her up off the bench. Her distracted gaze was still fixed on the man, and I had to yank her inside. I think both of us knew even then that that wouldn't be the last time we saw him.

* * *

But he was promptly forgotten during our second lesson – Social Studies. This was an environment Susannah was much more comfortable in, where she was able to talk to me – who was her desk partner – and got a lot more answers right when she thrust up her hand excitedly. 

The rule that Mrs Hollybridge neglected to mention on her well-received (or not so) bulletin was the one concerning dormitories. It was common knowledge on campus – even to the brand-new freshmen that just oozed enthusiasm – that there were to be no members of the opposite sex in your dormitory. Susannah and I – now sophomores – had found that out the hard way, when my dorm advisor had waltzed into my room to find Susannah there instead, watching television. I still have cramp in my wrist from where I had to write lines.

Not that lines had stopped Susannah, of course. She visited me quite regularly after that, showing her underwear to the cat-calling footballers I shared a dorm block with. Often it was so that she could copy up whatever she didn't understand or had been to busy creating a mass army of paper aeroplanes to write down from Biology, but tonight it was to drool over the man she had seen across the courtyard.

"I was surprised not to see him in Social Studies, weren't you Jess?" she asked me, whilst I looked over my Biology notes. "Jess? Jesse!"

My head snapped up to attention, only to realise what she had been talking about, and droop again. "I suppose. Perhaps he's just a visitor?"

"He seems like the Social Studies type," Susannah mused, mostly to herself. She hugged her knees and rocked back and forth on my bed, like a bored child. She then stopped and leant over my shoulder to snatch my biology notes from my hands.

"Continuous data should be displayed in a line graph," she read aloud. "As the categories flow from one to the other – for example, height. There are no set limits to the highest and lowest amounts." She scoffed. "We did variation today?"

"Yes," I said impatiently. "We did."

"But I thought we did homeostasis."

"We did," I said again. "This was a revision lesson, being the first of the semester." Understanding spread across her face.

"Oh." She scanned through the rest of my notes quickly, and I watched her pupils dart from one side of the page to another quicker than wildfire. She was intelligent, I knew – I saw snippets of her wit everyday – but she tended to be a lot more reserved in class, and instead poke fun towards the school traditions and its teachers. She wrapped her legs around me from the back and whispered in my ear: "Piggy-back to the door?"

I laughed and disposed of my notes, holding onto her ankles and standing up from the bed. Susannah swung like a monkey and I spun around and around, and for a moment it was like it was just the two of us in the world, spiralling in circles again and again.

And then we reached the door, and she hopped off my back like a rider hopped down from his horse, and blew me kiss, before opening the door and leaving. I sighed. That was all I'd be getting from Susannah for now.

And for now, that was enough.

* * *

"Susannah!" I yelled, banging with my fist on her dormitory door. "Susannah! We have biology in fifteen minutes!" 

I tended to act as her alarm clock every morning, refusing to enter her dormitory – which she shared with a rock chick named Cassie, and both of them had a disregard for the launderette – and instead choosing to beat on the wood and call her name until she appeared at the door sleepy-eyed and tousle-haired.

"God," she said, when she eventually emerged in her uniform with her satchel thrown across her back and a hairbrush in her hand trying to tame the wild beast that was her hair. "Couldn't you just IM me or something every morning?"

"I find this way is more effective," I replied, as Susannah struggled with an apparently stubborn knot in her wave of long brown hair. "Do you have your biology folder?"

She scoffed. "No," she said. "Today we have a cover, which means he probably won't have any idea what he's doing and we'll spend the entire hour just messing with his head. We won't be doing any work." I shrugged, deciding she was probably right. Professor Lipman tended to employ bald-headed old men who still wore braces attached to their trousers, but didn't know how to teach in the modern age. These were Susannah's favourite types of lessons – the ones where she never actually had to do anything.

Thanks to my wake-up call, we were early for our first class, and our fellow students were still queuing outside the lab. I unzipped my bag and rummaged for my folder, rummaging for my notes.

"Biological form and function is created from and is passed on to the next generation by genes, which are the primary units of inheritance," I read aloud, and Susannah yawned in response. I scowled. "It's important you know these things, Susannah," I scolded her. "Don't you want to be a marine biologist?"

"Yes," Susannah said. "But I want to have a life, unlike you." Her words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and I was stung instantly. I sighed, and put my notes back in my bag.

"I see," I said stiffly. Susannah looked pleadingly at me.

"Oh Jesse, I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry. Jesse-" I refused to make contact with her, and instead spotting something a little more interesting. The man in the suit from across the courtyard was coming closer. He was obviously a student of Biology, or so I thought, anyway, until he pulled a clipboard from his bag and headed straight for Susannah.

"You would be Miss Simon, then?" he asked, glancing down at his list, and Susannah stopped babbling her apologies to me at once, whirling around to face him. I suppose he was handsome – in the way Susannah's favourite boy-banders were, with their chiselled cheekbones and tortured eyes. Susannah blushed – a rare occurrence – and nodded. The man grinned. He stuck out a hand.

"Professor Lipman told me to keep an eye out for you – the one who never shuts up. It's nice to meet you, Miss Simon." Susannah shook his hand mindlessly, blinking bewilderedly at him. He dropped her petite hand and nodded at me. "I'll let you get back to your boyfriend now."

Susannah gasped, obviously embarrassed. "He's not my boyfriend!" she cried out, causing me to roll my eyes and turn scarlet. "He's just my Jesse friend… I mean my friend Jesse. My Jesse friend called Jesse." She cringed.

"Hello there, Jesse friend," he said, with a pitying smile to me.

"Are you taking Biology this year?" I asked him, and he threw his head back, erupting with raucous laughter.

"Not at all, Jesse!" he said, his charming grin turning Susannah to jelly beside me. "No, I'm Paul Slater."

"Paul Slater," Susannah repeated softly.

He nodded. "I'm going to be your teacher this semester."


	2. Paul Slater

**Hollybridge Height Food Court Menu**

Compiled by Cee-Cee Webb

_Monday: Potato Bar, Burrito, Fish Stix, Buffalo Bites_

_Tuesday: Curly Fries, Indiv. Pizza, Corndogs, Meatball Sub_

_Wednesday: Soup, Salad Bar, Grilled Cheese, Spicy Chix_

_Thursday: Bean Bar, Chicken Parm., Taco Salad Bar, Fish Fingers_

_Friday: Chicken Pattie, Soft Pretzel, Pasta Bar, Tuna salad_

_Saturday/Sunday: Leftovers_

Chapter Two

Susannah followed me into the lab in a bit of a daze. I don't think she was expecting Paul Slater to be our teacher for the next semester. I think she was thinking more along the lines of him being her potential lab partner for the semester. She sat down in front of me and put her Social Studies textbook on the desk.

"_Querida_?" I said, leaning forwards to speak in her ear. "I think you have the wrong textbook."

"Give me yours!" she hissed urgently, and I reluctantly surrendered mine. She gave me a dazzling smile and blew me a kiss. I sighed. The torch I held for her was just too bright.

The charming and charismatic Paul Slater strode into the classroom – making most of the girls in the room swoon – and dropped his briefcase and clipboard onto the desk with a clatter. He clasped his hands together to get everyone's attention – not that he needed to. Every eye was on him.

"O.K, first thing's first," he declared, pacing from either side of the classroom, examining his students with a critical eye. "Does anyone not have a textbook?"

I looked at the empty space on my desk and put up my hand ashamedly. I had brought my correct equipment to my lessons every day since kindergarten. If only Susannah knew what power she had over me.

"Ah!" Slater cried, spotting me and waltzing over to my desk. "Jesse…" He scanned his list. "…De Silva. Mr De Silva, that's a violation of rule number 7, I believe? 'Arrive on time to each lesson fully equipped.' Detention, today after your day's lessons." I scowled as a yellow slip of paper floated mockingly onto my desk, with my name scribbled in blood-red ink and the room number I needed to go to at 2: 35. I picked it up and slotted it into my folder out of sight. Susannah turned around and mouthed "I'm sorry." I just glared at her.

"O.K, then." Paul Slater moved on swiftly, and picked up a pen to write on the whiteboard with. His writing was scrawny and messy, I could barely read it. He finished with a flourish, and drew a diagonal line underneath it to emphasise the word.

_EVOLUTION_

"Who can tell me what I mean by 'evolution'?"

My hand rose into the air, automatically, and I sorted out my words carefully in my mind. I wouldn't give him an excuse to chastise me. I'd have every word perfect, and that would show him that I wasn't the type to get detention. I'd show him I didn't deserve that black mark on my record.

But instead, he asked Susannah, who – to my surprise – also had her hand up. She recited every word exactly, at super-speed. "In biology, evolution is the change in the inherited traits of a population from generation to generation." My mouth dropped open at hearing her say the words I had arranged in my head. Obviously she had memorized them from my notes last night.

"Great!" Slater looked impressed. "Now, do I give you a gold star or something for that?" The females of the class erupted into false laughter, batting their eyelashes and fanning themselves with various slips of paper – despite it being cool indoors as well as outdoors.

Susannah smiled. "No," she replied. "A 'Great!' was all I needed." Paul grinned, and then turned around to write on the board exactly what she had said.

"Copy it down," he ordered the class, and everyone fumbled for their pens to scribble hurriedly. I wrote it down leisurely, not needing to refer back to the board to check if it was right; I knew I was right. I wondered, however, if Susannah could successfully translate it into basic English.

"Who can tell me what a complete set of genes within an organism's genome is called?" Slater asked, though I could see his eyes were directed towards Susannah already.

"It's called its genotype," I called aloud, and he frowned.

"Mr De Silva," he said, striding gallantly towards me with a sneer. "Was that or was that not a violation of rule number 5 : 'raise your hand when asking or answering a question'?"

"Yes," I bowed my head and ground my teeth before finishing my sentence. "…sir."

"Well done, Mr De Silva," he replied coldly. "Your reward is an extra hour of detention after school. Cherish it."

I chewed my tongue to stop myself retorting, and he wandered away smirking. "I think Miss Simon ought to teach you a lesson or two, De Silva." I nearly exploded. _Susannah _teach _me _a lesson or two? I'd been doing most of her schoolwork since tenth grade. His instant infatuation with her infuriated me, and he knew it.

The bell rang through the lab, easing some of the irritation I felt. I pushed all of my schoolwork into my bag and left the room as quickly as I could. For a change, it was me waiting for Susannah. She surfaced at last, deep in flirtatious conversation with our teacher. She smiled at me and linked our arms, and we walked away, Paul giving me a contemptous wink.

Jerk.

* * *

"Paul has asked me to meet him for lunch," Susannah told me excitedly, whilst we waited for our Social Studies teacher to show. "'Coz, you know, he's new? He wants a tour of the cafeteria – but the cafeteria isn't that big. Why would he need a tour?"

"Do you really need me to explain this, _querida_?" I asked her, and I took a sip from my bottled water. "_Professor _Slater is not on my list of favourite people right now." I took another sip. It didn't seem to do much use for my dry throat, though.

"Can you come along, Jess?" Susannah begged me, holding onto my arm and blinking her emerald eyes up into my face. "I mean, he might need some one to tell him the exact chemical compound of coleslaw." She laughed at her own joke, whilst I merely scowled.

"Fine, I'll come along," I answered, surrendering. "But only because I think its wise all of Paul Slater's activities involving you should be chaperoned." She turned pink, and pulled me by the hand into the classroom, where she handed me my biology textbook.

"Thanks for the lend," she said. I sighed, and slotted it into my bag between my English Literature assignment and my biology notes. "I'm sorry I got you detention."

I didn't answer, and instead got out my seat to turn down the lights for our professor. She seemed to have an certain soft spot for me – in fact, most of the female teachers did. Susannah insisted it was my boyish charm. I think she says this just to make me blush.

Lunchtime rolled around too quickly, and soon enough I was being yanked eagerly by Susannah towards the canteen, where I was greeted with repugnant smells, and even worse – the scornful expression of Paul Slater, who was leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

"I had no idea I'd have the pleasure of meeting Mr De Silva again before the end of the day," he said, dryly. "I had thought I'd have Miss Simon all to myself."

"Then you thought wrong," I replied, clipping all of my syllables. _If you think I'd let her within ten metres alone with you, you're insane_, I added mentally. "Shall we go into the canteen to see what creative surprise they have in store for us this lunchtime?"

I laced Susannah's fingers with my protectively, but she shook me off, and instead took hold of Paul's arm as they examined the Fish Stix suspiciously. A spark of jealousy fizzled low in my stomach, and I kept an eye on them the whole time we sat down and ate. I barely touched my potato salad.

"I'll be seeing you later, De Silva," Paul said warningly, as he waggled his fingers at Susannah. "Bye-bye, Miss Simon." Susannah swooned and smiled at me girlishly once he had left.

"Isn't he fantastic?" she asked me excitedly, as we made our way to English Literature. "He talks about so much interesting stuff."

"Oh yes," I said, sarcastically. "The detailed account of how he modelled topless for a British magazine was just riveting. I wish it had lasted even longer than the twenty minutes it had." Susannah didn't even notice my disdain. She was too high on Paul Slater's presence.

English Literature was a blur. I was too distracted by Susannah's animated whispering about our new Biology professor that I couldn't concentrate of the effect of Steinbeck's descriptions, and I kept contradicting myself in my analysis of his work. I stabbed my pen angrily into my notebook. He wasn't just making Biology lessons miserable. He had managed to ruin my entire school day.

It seemed like only minutes had flown by since lunchtime, and now I was wearily making my way to room 201 – a Science lab – for my detention with my new favourite person. I glanced at my watch: it read 2: 33pm. My feet hurriedly along the gravel. God knew it wouldn't do me any good if I arrived late.

I made it to 201 at 2:36, and I pushed the door open, satisfied. I sat down at a front desk and dropped my bag to the floor. Paul hadn't looked up from his book, and said crisply "You're late." I chose not to argue.

"I've been checking out your file, De Silva," he informed me, and he set aside his book. "It seems on the exterior you're the perfect student. Not one B – straight As as far as the eye can see – and a high score on your SATs. What it neglects to mention, however, is the fact that you participate in no extra-curriculars whatsoever, and that you have a tendency to disregard the rules."

"I was President of my Science Club," I disputed, and Paul cut me off.

"Do you want another hour of detention, De Silva?" he asked me, and I lowered my head, a muscle leaping in my jaw. He was purposefully winding me up like a clock, seeing how far I could twist. I linked my fingers together tensely, refusing to let him get to me. "I'll take that as a no."

He walked from either side of the lab, a habit that was quickly beginning to irritate me. I pulled a notepad from my bag and began writing my name over and over again to pass the time.

_Jesse De Silva Jesse De Silva Jesse De Silva Jesse De Silva Jesse De Silva Jesse De Silva Jesse De Silva Jesse De Silva Jesse De Sil-_

Paul snatched the pen from my hand and snapped it, dropping the plastic to the floor and creating a small pool of blue ink. "Tell me, _Jesse-_" He said my name like it was some fatal disease. "What can you tell me about Susannah Simon?"

"What do you want to know?" I retorted. "The fact that she's a Scorpio, for example, or the fact that she refuses to use straighteners after she received a burn on her left index finger on her seventeenth birthday?" Paul grinned.

"You sure do know a lot about your _friend-_" Again, the emphasis on the word suggested he actually thought it something else. "But really, all I need to know is whether she has a boyfriend, seeing as the two of you are apparently not a couple."

"Rule number ten," I spat, my fingers stiff on the edge of my desk. "'There will be no teacher-student relationships at Hollybridge Heights'. Or haven't you gotten that far yet?"

"Jumping to conclusions won't get you anywhere," Paul said smoothly, twisting a piece of magnesium around his fingers. "I'm only making conversation."

"Then it would be no interest to you that Susannah is single?" I asked. "And plans to remain so until the perfect man comes along?"

"And that perfect man would be you?" he sneered. "Poor, poor Jesse. Nice guys finish last. I would have thought an A-student would know that."

"Her favourite colour is green," I said, poignantly. "Only a nice guy would know that."

"Not anymore," Paul replied, deridingly. "I'm not a nice guy, Jesse. Nice guys can't get what they want."

"Then if you're not a nice guy," I said warningly, standing up to demonstrate my point. "Then I suggest you stay away from Susannah."

We were nose-to-nose, both glaring dangerously into each other's eyes. Finally, he spoke, yet only in a quiet whisper. "Detention over. Get out."

"Gladly," I said, and I collected my bag from under the table, and left without a word. It seemed I had acquired an extra-curricular activity after all. But this wouldn't be one that would be any use to my transcript.

This would be one to save the woman I loved.


	3. Finger Licking

**A/N Hola! An update! Yay! Which is quite an achievement considering I've done maths homework, watched the British Premiere of High School Musical 2 and written over 1000 words of this all in a matter of hours. And let me tell you, this chapter would be nothing without those 1000 words. It would just be like... 1600. Shudder**

**Hope you like!**

* * *

**List of Extra-curricular Activities at Hollybridge Heights**

From your headmistress, Mrs Hollybridge

_Mondays:_

_Science Club (room 201, Jesse De Silva)_

_Cheerleading Squad (South Gym, Kelly Prescott)_

_Softball Practice (Front field, Bryce Martinson)_

_Tuesdays:_

_Dance Squad (South Gym, Kelly Prescott)_

_Creative Writing (room 118, Cee-Cee Webb)_

_Religion Appreciation (room 284, guest Sister Ernestine)_

_Wednesdays:_

_All Music Ensembles (Great Hall)_

_Thursdays:_

_Soccer practice (Front field, Bryce Martinson)_

_Field Hockey (Back field, Bradley Ackerman)_

_Fridays:_

_Mathletes (room 118, Cee-Cee Webb)_

_Track (Running Track, Bryce Martinson)_

_All clubs have assigned rooms. Please contact the above-mentioned students if you have any queries._

Chapter Three

I trudged back to my dormitory, swinging my bag dangerously over my shoulder as I went – and steam almost erupting from my ears. It was unbelievable how much hate I felt for his man already, although he had only been at this school two days. I was jealous of how Susannah seemed to fall at his feet, when I had been working for years for her to act remotely close to that around me.

"Hey, Jesse," a heard a gruff voice greet me as I entered my dormitory block. I looked up to see the captain of various sports, Bryce Martinson, eyeing me suspiciously. "Is that Suze chick single? Or is she sleeping with you?" I blushed a brilliant shade of red, and although I had been asked a similar question countless times, it still managed to have that effect on me.

"Susannah and I are just friends," I replied, automatically, and Bryce grinned stupidly at me.

"Cool," he grunted, throwing his softball at the wall as I tried to get past. "So, you know, could you ask her out for me?" I winced at the thought of Bryce wining and dining Susannah. "'Coz, you know, you're just…'friends'?"

"Sure," I said, dodging the wrath of the baseball once again, but Bryce kept taking another side step and pounding the wall with his ball as I kept walking towards my room. "But I'm not sure when I'll get to see her – I have a lot of homework…" This excuse tended to last a couple of days, until I could think of a better one. Not that I was convinced Susannah would actually date these 'boneheads' as she so fondly referred to them as, but I couldn't be too careful.

Bryce smiled again, showing a set of pearly whites. "Hey, don't worry about that dude," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "She's in your dorm room. Went in there about ten minutes ago. Did you know she has a key?"

I rolled my eyes, and he finally let me pass, just as I reached the pristine white door – except for the Hollybridge stickers I had neatly pressed to it – and fumbled for my keys. Susannah had insisted on her own key – despite the fact that I wasn't allowed one to _her _door – because I was the proud owner of a mini-fridge and a small television. I thought hungrily of the trifle I had bought yesterday, awaiting me to dig a spoon in and enjoy. My stomach rumbled in delight.

I twisted the key in the lock and prised my door open to find – now unsurprisingly, thanks to Bryce's heads-up – Susannah sitting on my bed, avidly watching the television. But to my astonishment, she had my trifle sitting on her lap, and she was licking her spoon sceptically.

"Oh, hey Jess," she said, spying me, and pulling the metal out of her mouth. "Why did you buy the trifle with custard in? You know I hate custard."

"This may come as a surprise to you, Susannah," I replied patiently, dumping my bag under my desk and taking a seat beside her on my deep, feather-filled mattress. "But seeing as that trifle was in _my _fridge, I was kind of under the impression _I _would be the one eating it. And I _do _like custard."

She frowned, and ran her finger around the rim of the plastic pot, scooping a layer of custard onto it, and putting it her mouth, clicking her tongue once or twice to absorb the taste. She sighed, and shook her head. "Nope," she argued, finally. "It's still disgusting." She dipped her finger in again, and held an amount of custard up to my face. My eyes followed it worriedly.

"If you get that on my bedspread, Susannah I will-"

"Lick it," she ordered. I stared at her hand in surprise, and she waggled it to emphasise her point.

"_Querida_," I sighed. "I am not licking your finger."

"Lick it off," she said again. "I ain't having custard in my trifle."

"_My _trifle," I corrected her, but she just gave me a pointed glance. I examined her finger closely one more time, before nearing it gingerly and placing my tongue on her skin. She watched in fascination, and I barely tasted the vanilla on my taste-buds. We kept eye-contact – her beautiful green eyes penetrating my own darker ones – and I released her finger with a faint _pop_, a blip in the eerie silence.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, gazing at each other. It was like we were both scared to break the connection, and Susannah's spoon stayed poised in the air above my elbow. For a brief moment, it was like there was nothing else in the world but us – our surroundings just a biological blur.

But then she giggled nervously, and the silence was gone.

* * *

"Oooh!" cried Susannah in excitement, dropping my arm and running to the notice board. She seized a purple slip of paper, crushing it in her anticipation. "Jesse, look!" 

There were various mimics of "Oooh, Jesse!" but I shook them off dismissively, and followed Susannah to the bulletin board. Between her fingers was a notice reading "Cheerleading Tryouts – Monday" and featuring a clip-art of a cheerleader waving pom-poms. I looked up at Susannah.

"And you have showed me this because…" I said, trailing off, and checking my watch anxiously. Today was Monday. I had to be in room 201 in twenty minutes – or I would miss the beginning of Science Club.

"Because…" Susannah waved the flyer in my face impatiently. "It's cheerleading!" She made a show of thrusting her arms in various directions and finishing with a kick that reached her nose. She received some applause from curious spectators.

Of course. Susannah had been desperate to be a cheerleader even back in tenth grade – but there was no squad at Junipero Serra. The squad at Hollybridge didn't accept freshmen, but now this was Susannah's chance. She pushed imaginary pom-poms into my face and batted her eyelashes at me. "Come to the tryouts with me, Jess?"

"Why do you even want to be a cheerleader anyway?" I asked. "All they do is wear short skirts and wave pom-poms around."

"It's all about school spirit. They want pep. I have pep!"

I rolled my own eyes, and held her hand. "Sure," I said. "But if it takes more than fifteen minutes, I have to leave, I'm sorry."

"Stay for seventeen minutes?"

"No can do. Sixteen and a half is my final offer."

"Deal."

We changed direction, and she yanked me by the hand down the corridor and into the courtyard – a shortcut to the South Gym, Susannah's favourite spot to watch. There was already a queue of excited teenage girls lined up outside the school gym, hurriedly thinking out creative chants and steps to entice the captains. I felt like warning them Kelly Prescott was the new captain, and they didn't stand a chance, but I kept quiet.

Finally, the head cheerleader – a name I tended to forget, though she had jet-black glossy curls and tended to wear a ruby necklace dipping low into her halter top – and her vice Kelly Prescott appeared at the doors of the gym, and began scanning the lines of girls jabbering away excitedly.

One by one, the freshmen were turned away, and the queue shortened considerably. I heard Susannah's breath catch in her throat as they came nearer, analysing her build and scratching at their clipboard. Kelly shot her a huge false smile.

"Suze!" she shrieked. She had been in our class back in Junipero Serra, and hadn't even looked our way once. "What makes _you _want to be a cheerleader?"

"Oh, you know…" Susannah blew on her nails and wiped them into her sweater, trying to act nonchalant, though I knew her heart was hammering. "I wanted a hobby this year. And cheerleading seemed perfect, you know with the hot guys on the pitch, and the cute outfits-"

"She's got pep," I added helpfully. She sent me a very sour look. I grinned.

"Fine," replied Kelly, ignoring me, and she ushered us into the gym to join he rest of the hopefuls of Hollybridge. At the far end of the hall was Debbie Mancuso, sat in the middle of three chairs, trying desperately to write with the rubber end of the pencil.

"Suze Simon!" A loud voice called. I squeezed her hand meaningfully, as she ran forward to the centre mats, where a spread of gym mats lay. She took the pom-poms from Kelly, who pressed play on a CD player, and Susannah nodded – obviously in response to something Kelly had said.

"One, two, three, four!" The tune blaring from the boom box had a heavy base, which pounded onto the four walls of the gym, and the girl band vocals were all yeah-yeah-yeahs. She dangled the pom-poms loosely at her sides, before whizzing them around her head and throwing herself into a back flip.

The crowd cheered – myself including as I watched her brown limbs fly through the air performing several complicated stunts, her toned stomach peeking out from underneath her T-shirt every few seconds. Her audience was silent now as they watched her move, every eye transfixed. The song finished, and a round of applause erupted, the claps echoing in the large room, and Susannah appearing from her cartwheel flush-faced but beaming.

"Did you see me?" she said breathlessly, scurrying back to me and throw her arms around my neck in an animated embrace. "I feel amazing!"

"You _were _amazing," I told her, releasing her waist and taking to holding her hand instead, feeling her fast heartbeat pulsating through her skin. "Really great." I looked at my watch. I should have been in room 201 ten minutes ago. "I have to go," I added. "I'm late, really late." Susannah pouted.

"Jesse-"

"I'm sorry," I mouthed, as I released her fingertips and slipped through the crowd. "I'll see you later."

I ran across the courtyard, desperately hoping that the members of the Science Club wouldn't be waiting too long for me. With luck, most of them would be running late too.

"Hi guys," I called, as I pushed open the door to the lab and dropped my bag on the desk. "I'm really sorry I'm la-"

"Ah, Mr De Silva," a voice that made my spine ripple with fury greeted me. I looked up to see Paul Slater melting a marshmallow over a Bunsen. "So kind of you to grace us with your presence."

I scowled. "You have got to be kidding me."

Paul picked at the marshmallow from the end of his skewer, and licked his burnt fingers. He grinned. "You didn't think you'd be running the club by yourself, did ya Jesse?" He made a tutting sound. "Students with detention on their records don't get that privilege."

I curled my hands into fists and had to fight with my urge to tip the Bunsen into his lap, and sat down. Paul handed us all a skewer and a marshmallow each, and told us to find a Bunsen. This was ridiculous. I had been melting marshmallows back in junior high. This year, I was planning on filling balloons with various metals and then watching them as they reacted with acid.

It sounded fun in my head.

"Have you got a problem with the task, De Silva?" Slater asked me coolly. I jumped from where I had been sitting on a stool, staring into a corner of the lab miserably. I slid my marshmallow onto my skewer and swiped a splint from the jar on Paul's desk.

"No," I replied shortly. I lit my splint in Cee-Cee's Bunsen and set my own light, dabbing it out on the heat-proof mat and adjusting it from a safety flame. Safety flames were useless for heating anything. Paul grunted, satisfied, and wandered away.

"God," Cee-Cee said in my ear. "You and that guy clearing need to sort something out. You were practically spitting at each other."

"He's just…" I began; sticking my skewer in the flame and watching it lick the confectionery. "A jerk," I settled for saying. "No big."

"O.K." Cee-Cee shrugged. "Just don't let me in between you two when we're burning magnesium. I think getting blinded would be the least of my worries." I smiled weakly, and watched her carefully drop her marshmallow onto a biscuit, and blow it cool.

"Thanks to Mr De Silva here," Paul announced, striding over to my lab and switching the gas tap off – my blue flame disappeared instantly – much to my disdain. My marshmallow was still firmly solid. "That's all we have time for today. Turn off your Bunsens and pack away." Cee-Cee gave me a half-smile as she flipped her switch, and she swung her bag over her shoulder as she pushed her burner into the cupboard.

"Take the high road," she mouthed. I nodded.

"We have Biology tomorrow, first period," Paul called, as I was about to leave to lab. I was half a foot outside. I turned around in confusion. He shot me a sardonic wink. "You know, just in case you forget. Wouldn't want you turning up late."

I released an internal roar, and left his company as fast as I could, my hurried steps echoing in the silent corridor. Soon I was reaching the outside – I could hear the gentle wind and excited chattering. Chattering I recognised – Susannah's.

"Yeah, I know! It was completely unexpected for me too."

"Where did you learn to do all of that? You sure as hell weren't that enthusiastic about gym back at Junipero Serra."

"Well…Jesse!" She spotted me as I walked through the archway, and she dropped her bag on the floor beside Bernadette – a fellow Biology major – and ran towards me, hugging me eagerly. "Jess," she breathed, dealing my cheek a large smacking kiss. "I got in! Can you believe that?"

"You were pretty incredible," I told her, and she smiled, showing all of her perfect teeth. She dropped her hands to her sides and bent over, ruffling her hair and tying it up into a ponytail.

"I'm so hot right now," she said, fanning her face with her fingers. _You got that right,_ I thought. "My heart is just pounding!"

She skipped over to Bernadette and plucked her school bag from the sidewalk, a piece of paper fluttering to the ground. I ran to pick it up.

"Hey, Sus-" I stopped abruptly, spotting the familiar handwriting. It was blood-red ink, the same scrawl that dealt me a detention, and demanded a definition for "Evolution". Paul Slater's.

_**Hey Suze,**_

_**I really enjoyed lunch today. I never realised before how incredibly intelligent and witty you are. It's amazing to meet a girl like that. Perhaps you'd like to meet me after hours – outside room 201? I'm sorry it's so far away from your dorm but as I'm new It's really all I know.**_

_**Hoping to see you soon,**_

_**Paul**_

_**x**_

I crumpled the paper into a ball in my fist, furious. He was arranging a date with Susannah – my Susannah! I saw her turn around, searching for me with her sharp green eyes. She found me, and smiled.

"Hey…" she said, linking her arm through mine, and I pushed the ball of paper deeper into my pocket with my other hand. "Are you O.K?"

"Oh yeah," I replied, grinding my teeth. "I'm fine. Just fine."


	4. Room 201

**A/N Thanks for all the positive reviews! I really appreciate all the response this fic is getting. I love writing this! PS. If you have any ideas for the little things at the top, let me know. My own ideas are wearing a little thin.**

**Mil**

* * *

_Sophomore Year at Hollybridge Heights_

_Recommended Reading List_

"_**Little Women" **__by Louisa May Alcott_

"_**The Da Vinci Code" **__by Dan Brown_

"_**The Hunt for Red October" **__by Tom Clancy_

"_**Oliver Twist" **__by Charles Dickens_

"_**Cold Mountain"**__ by Charles Frazier_

"_**Memoirs of a Geisha" **__by Arthur Golden_

"_**The Talented Mr Ripley" **__by Patricia Highsmith_

"_**To Kill a Mockingbird" **__by Harper Lee_

"_**The Godfather" **__by Mario Puzo_

"_**A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" **__by Betty Smith_

_All books are available from the School Library._

Chapter Four

Susannah scoffed, and dropped her English Lit. folder into her lap with a sigh. I looked up from where I had been pretending to write avid notes on today's lesson – but had actually been desperately plotting to stop the proposed rendezvous between Paul and Susannah this evening – and saw her tearing her reading list in two.

"Susannah," I said calmly. "I don't really think that was a good idea." She shrugged. "I'm not photocopying mine for you in a month's time when our professor asks for progress and sees you haven't even got the list any more."

"Whatever," she replied, happily, and she hopped off her bed. We were in her dorm – for a change, though the whole room smelt of vanilla and was starting to irritate my nose. Plus there was a trail of tights and what-nots on the floor between Susannah and Cassie's sides of the room. "Hey Jess, you're a boy."

"Nicely spotted," I said, dryly. She rolled her eyes and flung open her closet door to reveal a carefully ordered chaos that hurt my eyes to look at. I thought of my own closet, organized by season and then by type of garment.

"If you were taking me on a date-" My heart flipped. "What would you like me to wear?"

I studied her clothes from where I was sitting cross-legged. "Well," I began. "Something like..." I pointed to a jacket, and she stuck her tongue out in disgust. She slung it off its hanger and threw it onto Cassie's bed.

"It's not mine," she said. "It must have got into my closet by mistake." She plucked a short skirt from the depths of her wardrobe and held it to her waist.

"_Querida_," I said softly. "What are you doing tonight?"

She spun around in surprise, the skirt still pressed to her body. "Why?" she demanded. I obviously hadn't been subtle enough. I tried to make out like I had planned something for the two of us.

"Oh, you know," I said, nonchalantly. "There's _"Bring It On" _on tonight. I was thinking it might be appropriate – seeing as you got into the cheerleading squad. Plus, it's your favourite film." She smiled, and leant over to kiss my cheek.

"Oh Jesse," she replied, sweetly, tossing the skirt over her bed and trying to match it with various shirts. "You're so sweet. But I can't – I have a date tonight."

"It's not on till midnight," I told her. "Won't you be finished by then?"

"Nope," Susannah said, avoiding my eye. "That's when our date starts. We're going…stargazing."

"How romantic. Who's your date again?" I asked, carefully. Susannah chewed her bottom lip – a habit that showed she was nervous. I watched her lip darken.

"…Bryce," she decided on, and it hurt me that she was so obviously and blatantly lying to me. I chose to look surprised.

"Really?" I thought of Bryce, and his leering and scruffy hair. I knew at once Susannah wouldn't consider him. Then again, I never thought Paul would be her type either. "That's an…interesting choice." She looked distracted.

"Mm-hmm…" she muttered, and she leant on one leg to find her ankle boots. "Yeah. Turns out we have something in common. We both really like squash."

"Softball," I corrected her. "Bryce plays softball. And football. But not squash."

Susannah blushed. "Oh, right. Yeah, my bad." She unzipped her jacket and cleared her throat. "Can you turn around? I wanna get changed."

"Oh." I matched her blush. "O.K." I swivelled around so that I was facing the wall above her headboard – which was decorated with flyers concerning several major events about campus, as well as pictures of us. My favourite photo is when we were at the beach last summer vacation, back in Carmel visiting family. I'm giving her a piggy-back, but she's covering my eyes. The one next to it is in the same place, only I'm holding her upside down and her mouth is wide open, enjoying the ride.

"You know what?" I said, eventually, getting off the bed – but not turning around, of course. "I'm going to go. You have fun with…Bryce. Call me when you get in." I closed the door behind me with a sigh. _Keep safe_, I added silently. _God knows what Paul Slater has in mind._

"Hello?"

I looked up from where I had been resting on her door and staring at the floor to see a young girl standing in front of me – one leg crossed in front of the other, and her hands twisted together nervously. She must have been about my age – perhaps younger, and had blonde, curly hair that fell in golden cascades down her front. She was glowing, slightly, and had a sad smile.

"You're a ghost," I whispered, and she nodded.

I guess I must have forgotten to tell you that one tiny thing.

* * *

I hadn't seen one since I'd started back at Hollybridge Heights. The place had seemed strangely empty as I walked the halls on my first day – no glowing figures, no pleading faces, no ghostly wails. It was perfect and tranquil – a life I'd never really gotten to experience.

Maybe I should elaborate. I, Jesse De Silva, am a mediator. A guide, if you like, for lost souls, looking to move on to the next plane of consciousness – whether that be Heaven or Hell, or their next life. Personally, being a devout Catholic like the rest of my family solely believe in Heaven and Hell, and that there is no next life. Susannah, however, is a firm agnostic.

This is the one thing I have over Paul Slater – this special bond with Susannah. Not of course, that she knows I share her gift. She confided in me that first month she spent at Junipero Serra, convinced I was going to think she was insane. But instead I'd get quiet and nodded, and she'd been so relieved I thought she was going to pass out. It was what had cemented our relationship – that I knew her secret, and really, that was the opportune time to tell her I was a mediator too. But then our lunchtime was over, and we'd been ushered back in homeroom. The moment had passed, and another chance had never come along.

The girl before me looked concerned. I hadn't taken my eyes off her – I was deep in thought, wondering why all of a sudden another ghost had appeared. "Are you O.K?" she asked me. I jumped at the sound of her voice, and nodded slowly.

She smiled, and uncrossed her legs. "You're a mediator," she said. "Here I was looking for the girl, and instead I find you. Have I got something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No," I assured her. "Susannah is a mediator too. I just happened to be leaving her dormitory." The girl raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't that against the rules?"

I ignored her. "You were a student at Hollybridge Heights?" Her inquisitive mouth curled into a gloomy purse of the lips, and she nodded her head gently. Then she stuck out a white hand, with perfectly manicured fingernails and slim fingers.

"Julia James," she told me. "Biology major, with a minor in English Lit, senior year. I died at the hands of four frat guys."

My mouth dropped open. "One of the fraternities on the campus?" I asked. "Have they been charged with your murder?"

"No," she replied. "It wasn't one of the fraternities on this campus. I was at a party last weekend, at another university, out of town." She flinched at the memory. "A few of the frat guys drunk a bit too much and things began to get a bit violent."

"It's O.K," I said, wrapping an arm around her and walking her down the corridor. "We'll get this sorted out."

"Really?" She looked doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." I smiled warmly at her. "It's what I do."

* * *

My alarm clock rang all too quickly. I fumbled for the snooze button, thinking immediately it was morning – until I saw it read 11:55p.m, and realised that I was in fact doing extremely important detective work.

I threw back the covers and got out of bed, being careful not to make any sound. I was lucky enough to get a dorm to myself – but the neighbouring dorm belonged to Bryce Martinson and Brad Ackerman – both of whom were light sleepers. If they knew I had gone, I would not be getting out alone.

Room 201… that was in the science block. Of course, I should know that, the room being the chamber of torture I'd been forced to endure in the form of detention and Science Club in the last two days. I zipped up my jacket and pulled on my trainers, before snatching up the keys to my door and leaving, running on my tip-toes. I was grateful no-one was around to see that.

I had to be careful once I left the dormitory block. Teachers were on almost every corner – watching for students out of bed. It was only the seniors who were allowed out of their dormitories at night, and any minor caught sneaking about would automatically be issued with a week's worth of detention, and a black mark on their record. Normally I wouldn't even consider risking my record. But this was different.

This was for Susannah.

"Hey." I flattened myself against the wall in shock, my breath short and hot, my heart hammering. I pressed a hand to my chest and saw Julia chuckling at me, her blonde hair wavering slightly in the cool midnight air in the courtyard. "You should have seen your face!" she cried, holding her stomach and laughing.

"Not funny," I hissed at her, as I continued through the courtyard and on into the science block. "I could have had a heart-attack!"

Julia smiled. "Perfect," she replied. "Hottie ghosts aren't that common."

I took a hair grip from my pocket – one of Susannah's that I had swiped from her bedside table – and stuck it into the lock of the science block. Hollybridge Heights wasn't that careful about its security – considering how prestigious they were about their scientific achievement – as the lock gave way with a quick click and the double doors swung open to reveal a darkened hallway. Julia raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to go in there?" she asked me, with a jerk of the head. "Its kinda dark, and you're so gonna get busted."

I shrugged. "I have to stop her getting involved with such a creep. I love her."

"So you ruin her social life and then she's meant to fall spectacularly in love with you?" Julia looked a little sceptical. "I see."

"Something like that," I said hurriedly. "Now be quiet before I change my mind." She clicked her tongue impatiently, but followed me inside the science block, and we passed room 190, the gold lettering barely legible in the dark.

"You know," Julia announced, after a while. "You do realise once you interrupt their little tête-à-tête, he is able to give you detention, being a teacher and all." I considered this, and then sighed.

"I guess," I replied, eventually. "But I can't stop now. I'm too curious. I have to eavesdrop." Julia chewed on her fingernails, bored.

"Okey-dokey then," she surrendered. "Your school record, not mine."

Rooms 192, 193 and 194 slipped past us as we silently crept through the science block. So far, we were successful, until we reached the flight of stairs – and at the top stood room 201. I shivered at the suspense of it all, and even my gentle body movements could be heard in the intense quiet.

"…you weren't going to come."

I froze mid-step after hearing Paul's greeting to Susannah. Julia stood rigid too, her eyes wide. I heard the door to room 201 swing open, the light-switch snap on, and then Paul shut the door softly. It was safe to continue.

"Of course I was coming," Susannah replied. I could see her now, through the rectangles of glass inserted in the wood. She was sat on one of the lab tables, her bare legs crossed and dangling freely. Paul was stood in front of her – less than metre away from her body. His back was turned to me, so I couldn't see his face.

"Let's turn off the lights," he suggested, and I had to duck out of sight as he padded towards the wall and snapped off the electric lighting. Now everything was pitch black again. I flattened myself against the wall beside the door, breathing hard, awaiting the next part of the conversation.

A meagre orange light was reflected in the panes of glass, and I could just about see the figures of Susannah, and Paul – who was edging closer, wielding a lighter.

"How romantic," Susannah remarked dryly, and I pressed my face to the window to see Paul dip the flame into the well of the candle that Susannah held in two hands, the wick blackening as the flare licked it hungrily.

Paul laughed – his mirthless chuckle audible even from my distance – and snapped his lighter shut. Susannah scooted over on the lab table, and Paul took a seat next to her, wrapping his hands around hers, clutching the candle and admiring the flame.

"I'm not sure we should be doing this," she whispered, the tip of her nose hardly centimetres from his. "It's against the rules." Paul took the candle and set it down on the table.

"I've never been one for rules," he replied, and I began to feel sick. He leant in closer towards Susannah, who promptly reached for the candle and held it between their faces. I breathed a sigh of relief. Paul chortled again. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Thinking about your precious Jesse?"

"Jesse and I aren't dating," she said, a little too fiercely for my liking, and Paul placed a hand on her slim thigh.

"Prove it," he challenged. Susannah looked a little doubtful. Paul's face was coming closer and closer to hers, his nose practically touching the fire.

Susannah lowered the candle, and by the dim light I watched their lips touch for a second, one of her hands snaking around his neck, and one of his sliding up her back…

And then she blew the candle out.


	5. Tad Beaumont

**A/N I love this chapter. I'm not sure why, but I do. Thanks for all the support this is getting! I love review :-D **

**Credit to Jesse's Querida Forever for her suggestion for the pre-chapter intro. I was completely stumped, thanks Amanda!**

* * *

_**Hollybridge Heights Weekly Newsletter**_

_By Cee-Cee Webb_

_Yes, the school year has officially begun. No more skiing in Aspen or surfing in Miami – instead Hollybridge is treating its alumni to weird-looking casseroles in the crammed cafeteria. Who says school isn't fun?_

_Here are some dates for your diary – the first football match against Drockledown takes place on the 28__th__, if you still haven't tried out for the team I suggest you contact Bryce Martinson (Steinbeck Hall). And where would our football team be without their glamorous cheerleaders to support them? Congratulations to the new additions: Sophomores Susannah Simon and Georgia Haals, and senior student Rebecca Dean. The first cheerleading meet is on the 2__nd__ October – see Kelly Prescott (Topping Hall) for details. The state's annual science competition will be held on the 4__th__ – see Jesse De Silva (Steinbeck Hall) if you're interested, the Science Club is running low on numbers._

_And finally, let me say on behalf of the entire student body, welcome to Mr. Paul Slater of the Science Department, who will be taking Professor Lipman's position this semester. Be nice to him, guys! Maybe you will even learn a thing or two from him._

_Until next week, your faithful correspondent,_

_Cee-Cee Webb_

Chapter Five

I barely slept at all that night. I was haunted by images of Paul and Susannah together every time I closed my eyes – visuals that made me feel nauseous and furious at the same time. He was a teacher – surely it was illegal for him to even consider dating a student?

Not that felony would deter Susannah. Only two years ago she had dragged me into Junipero Serra's grounds after hours to retrieve and finish a history pop quiz Mr Walden had set us to complete within a mere ten minutes. I had at first refused, but the lure of her gorgeous green eyes was too much to bear.

I had turned around in horror after witnessing the scene between Susannah and Paul, only to find Julia James had disappeared. That was the annoying thing with ghostly spirits. They came and went as they pleased.

I had stumbled back to my dormitory – in shock, but undetected – and closed the door gently, before sitting upright on my bed and mulling over the events. I couldn't describe the pain piercing my heart – Susannah was supposed to be my soulmate – my true love. It wasn't right that somebody like Paul Slater could just swoop down with his undeniable charisma and charm and steal her from me before I could even tell her how I felt.

Eventually, I had pulled my duvet over my head and tried to get to sleep. If I didn't drift off soon there would be no point in trying – it was gone half-past one in the morning, and I woke up every morning religiously to run a mile in the mornings. Not that I told anybody that – I liked to leave the cause of my formed abdominal muscles a mystery, especially to Susannah.

It was a cold night, and I pulled the sheets right up to my neck in an attempt to get warm. Even when I put on so many layers that I began to sweat, I still couldn't shake the chill that ran up my spine. I knew it wasn't going to leave me for a long time yet.

"Yeah, I figured."

I jumped at the sound of a female voice in my room – or rather, any kind of voice other than my own at 2:30 in the morning – and sat up abruptly to see Julia stand at the foot of my bed, with her arms crossed and her long, blonde hair scooped up into a ponytail.

"What?" I demanded rudely, my eyes finding it hard to focus in the darkness. I snapped my bedside light on, which glared at me and made my forehead pound. I sighed.

Julia smiled. "I just figured after seeing what you saw back in the science block, you wouldn't be able to sleep."

I scowled. "What are you even doing in my room at two-thirty in the morning?"

"Fine…" Julia said, casually. "If you don't want to know any detail of my murder I have just suddenly remembered, that's fine…"

"Wait!" I cried, and then clasped a hand over my mouth. I had forgotten I had neighbours most likely asleep either side of the thin walls of my dorm. I unzipped one of my many jackets and threw it to the end of my bed. "I do want to know." I threw the bedclothes off my body and got out of bed, snapping the room's main light on and drawing up my desk chair, offering my mattress to Julia.

"Thanks," she replied gratefully, and she took a seat. "His name is Tad Beaumont."

"Whose name is Tad Beaumont?" I asked, stupidly. My responses were slow in the early hours. Sue me, why don't you. Julia rolled her eyes.

"My murderer," she answered, then corrected herself. "One of them, anyway."

"How do you remember his name?" I asked her, unzipping yet another jacket. My chill had suddenly disappeared now I had a distraction. Julia chewed her lip thoughtfully.

"His name was on the invitation," she said, pensively. "To his party - he was hosting it. I think I still have it in my pocket." She dug her hands into the pockets of her jeans – the same clothes she was wearing earlier that evening, the clothes she had died in – and pulled out a ghost version of the paper. "We had to show them at the door," she said, softly. I took the invitation from her and read it.

_**THE BIGGEST PARTY IN THE WHOLE STATE – ARE YOU READY TO PARTY?**_

_**Bring booze. **_

_**Tad Beaumont**_

I wasn't much of a partier, but even I knew this was a pretty lame invite. There was an address at the bottom – in scrawled writing that was hard to read, but Julia helped me decipher it. I then realised I knew where it was.

"It's about half an hour away," I said, handing the paper back to her. "Susannah and I ended up in that area when we first drove to Hollybridge. She couldn't read a map and I was so in love I trusted her blindly." I noticed Julia's mouth lift into a sad smile.

"I'm thinking we need to take a little road trip," I continued, and Julia's smile disappeared instantly.

"No!" she hissed, grabbing hold of my wrists urgently. I flinched – I didn't like it when ghosts touched me. It seemed unnatural. "We can't go there. We can't."

"You don't have to," I told her. "I'll go on my own. But we need answers – and this is the place to find them." She still looked unconvinced.

"You'll be missing Biology," she informed me. I grinned, and shrugged.

"Quality time with Paul Slater isn't high up in my list of priorities right now."

* * *

I had been slightly apprehensive about what I was going to find in Susannah's dormitory this morning, as I delivered my daily wake-up call, but fortunately she was alone – even her roommate had deserted her. She greeted me grumbling, as always, but today I wasn't so keen to spark up a conversation. Instead, I demanded the keys to her battered Chrysler. She dropped the keys into the palm of my hand with a satisfying clink. And then she slammed the door in my face.

This was understandable, considering it was only 7:00 in the morning.

"Alright, a road trip!" Julia whooped excitedly, and she climbed into the passenger seat with exuberance. "Man, I've never been on a road trip before."

"You do realise it's only half an hour away?" I reminded her, but it didn't seem to dilute her enthusiasm at all. She lay back in the leather seat and stretched her feet out, fishing in an empty cigarette packet for a smoke (Susannah's last boyfriend had been a smoker, and she wasn't really one for cleaning out her cars regularly).

We snaked out of the Hollybridge campus – only after me lying elaborately to the security guard patrolling the perimeter that I had some kind of family emergency that required me to leave the school grounds this very instant – and pulled out onto the open road.

"Are you O.K?" I asked Julia, noticing she had dropped her legs from where they had been outstretched, and was now curled up in her seat, hugging her news. Even her skin had paled considerably and she was chewing her lip – a habit that must be common for nervous girls.

"Yeah," she replied, a little uncertainly. "Just…just keep safe, O.K? Now that we're back here, I'm remembering it all. I'm not sure that it's a good idea for us to be here."

"We'll be fine," I assured her, a little braver than how I felt.

"I'm not worried about _me_," she said. "Despite what I said about there being a shortage of hot ghosts, I'm not about to let you die."

"Well, here we are anyway," I declared, pulling up a brick house and double-checking the number on the gate with the invitation Julia had handed me. "Number 64, Beaumont House." I pushed open my car door, heart hammering. I hadn't exactly been one for confrontations.

"Good luck," Julia whispered. I waved nervously, and opened the gate. It squeaked irritably and whined as I pushed it all the way open. Then I started up the path, already hearing the dulcet (not) tones of heavy hip-hop pounding against the inside walls of the fraternity house. I rapped on the door three times – an accomplishment, considering how much my hands were shaking. It probably wasn't one of the wisest ideas to be willingly entering a murderer's house.

The guy who opened it was dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. He had a pair of earphones in connected to an IPod, despite the music already playing inside the house. He jerked his head slightly in the way of inviting me in, and I looked back at Julia fearfully before taking a step indoors.

The house was huge – bigger than it looked from the outside. The floor was marble and shiny – a tell-tale maid was dusting in one corner – and a large sweeping staircase occupied most of the hallway. I followed the guy into a door on my left, leading to what must be their living room – judging by the enormous flat-screen television and various games consoles laid out opposite the sofa.

"What do you want?" the guy asked me – his earphones still in. He picked up a controller from one of the consoles and handed it to me, before picking up another and inserting a disc into the machine. When I didn't answer, he elaborated. "Why did you come to the house?"

"I…I left something here," I fabricated. "At a party. Last week."

The guy nodded knowingly. "Yeah, we get that a lot," he replied. "What was it? A wallet? We got load of 'em in the back room – and a hell of a lot of single shoes. I mean, who gets so wasted that they just take off one shoe?" It seemed like a logical question until he proceeded: "I mean, if you're drunk, you take them both off, right?"

I nodded, slowly. "Right…"

"Tad Beaumont," he introduced himself suddenly, pulling the earphones out of his ears, finally, and thrusting a hand in my direction. I gasped sharply, though thankfully he didn't notice. "You are?"

"Bryce Martinson," I answered immediately. I figured it wouldn't pay to give them my real name. Tad's face lit up.

"Oh, dude!" he said, as the screen turned blue and a menu for "Coolboarder 2" filled the room. "I've heard of you. You go to that really stuffy school, right? Gollygosh, or something?"

"Hollybridge," I corrected him, shaking his hand at last. "Yeah. Listen, I didn't actually leave a wallet here."

Tad pressed a few buttons on his controller expertly without looking at the screen. His gaze was fixed on me. "No?" he asked, reading behind him to pull a T-shirt over his head that had a ketchup stain down the front of it and read "I'm With Stupid". I shook my head.

"No," I echoed. "I'm actually here to ask you about some one you know." Tad's inquisitive look invited me to continue. "Julia James? She's a senior, over at Hollybridge. Was, actually. She died about a week ago." Tad's casual and welcoming smile disappeared.

"I don't know her," he responded in a mono-tone voice, as if rehearsed. "I've never heard of her before in my life." I narrowed my eyes.

"Are you sure?" I questioned carefully. Tad got off the sofa, discarding his controller and sending it crashing into the wall.

"Yeah, dude!" He sounded panicked. "Get off my case! I don't know who the hell this freaking Julia is!"

"Fine, fine," I said, trying to calm him down. "That's fine-"

"Who sent you?" he demanded, angrily. "Are you some kind of cop? Listen, we told you guys everything we know, there's no case here!"

"Tad!" I took him by the shoulders, and shook him, trying to bring him back to his senses. "Hey, calm down. What's the matter with you?"

Tad pushed me off and sent me head first into the sofa. "Get off me!" he squeaked, his voice uneven. "If you wanna question someone, question Blue! Not me! I haven't got anything to do with it!"

"Blue?" I repeated, frowning, picking myself up and dusting myself off. The maid had obviously not reached the living room yet, as I was covered with cigarette ash and crumbs of all sorts. "Who's Blue?"

Tad looked horrified that he'd let the information slip, but before he could answer, we were interrupted.

"Tad?" The large front door closed with a _thud._ "It's Craig. I'm home!" Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Tad and I listened in tense silence. "Dude, where the hell are you?"

"Lounge," Tad grunted suddenly, making me jump. Craig wandered into the living room carrying a paper bag of groceries and a six-pack of Red Bull. He eyed me confusedly.

"Dude," he said, to Tad. "Who's this guy?"

"Don't worry," I replied, making my way out of the room as quickly as I could. I wasn't in the mood to be dragged into a two-on-one with a pair of frat brothers. "I'm just leaving."

"What's wrong?" Julia asked me urgently, as I threw myself into the Chrysler and started the engine, hands shaking again. "Did they hurt you? Who did you meet?"

"Tad Beaumont," I said, grimly. "And he's hiding secrets." I glanced at my side mirror before pulling into the street and speeding down the road. "Nearly had a heart-attack when I mentioned your name."

Julia put her palm to her head and sighed. "You mentioned my name?" she groaned, putting her head in her lap. "You do realise that you are now officially a target to them. They've probably realised you know that they murdered me, and now they're gonna be out to stop you talking."

I looked at her reassuringly. "It's O.K," I said, patting her shoulder comfortingly. "I didn't give them my real name. I told them I was Bryce Martinson."

"Who lives in the same building as you," Julia remarked, dryly. "Nice going, De Silva. I think we need to go over how to be subtle, because you obviously don't have a natural gift."

"I do too," I replied, defensively, but Julia had lost interest.

We arrived back at Hollybridge at ten-twenty, just five minutes after Biology would have finished. I wondered if anyone had missed me – perhaps my lab partner might have. I had no idea why Mark Pulsford was taking Biology – he generally relied on me to help him pass his mid-terms.

I guess Susannah wouldn't have missed me. She would be too busy drooling over Paul Slater to notice I wasn't sat behind her. My heart sank at this thought. It seemed I had well and truly lost her.

"Are you O.K?" Julia asked me, as we climbed out of the car. "You seem a little sad."

I shook myself. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Where are you going to go now?"

I sighed. "I guess I'd better go and tell my Biology _professor _why I missed his oh-so-enjoyable lecture today." Julia raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to tell him that you went across the state to solve a murder case?" she questioned, humorously. I laughed.

"No," I scoffed. "I'm going to explain how my grandmother – who coincidentally lives in New Hampshire – fell down a flight of stairs and couldn't remember the emergency services number." She snorted.

"Yet she somehow remembered your dormitory phone number?" she asked.

"Yes."

Julia dematerialized then – as much as she was dying to see how I could hold up my act, I told her she would be putting me off – and I walked over to the Science Block alone. I had five minutes till my next lesson – Social Studies – but already students were queuing outside the labs ready for their second lesson. I began to feel nervous – I hadn't been late for a class since kindergarten.

Then again, I'd never skipped a class before either.

Mark Pulsford was waiting outside room 201 as I approached it, and he demanded a high-five. I obliged, grinning.

"Hey, De Silva," he greeted me. "How come you weren't in Biology last period?"

"Family emergency," I told him, and Mark nodded understandingly. "I have to go and explain it to Paul now." He wished me good luck, and I knocked on the door.

"Come in," Paul announced, and he dropped his cell phone from where he had been holding it to his ear. He looked kind of white.

"Are you alright?" I queried. Lord knows where my sudden politeness came from. Inwardly I was spitting and hissing at him.

"Mr De Silva," Paul said, acknowledging my presence suddenly. "I think you and I need to have a chat."


	6. The Chat

**A/N Hey, who wants to help me reach 100 reviews by next chapter? I have faith that we can do it - its just 21 reviews away! Please if you read, review? I know its an extra bit of effort, but I really appreciate it and will return the favour. I love this fic and put so much work into it that I really want it to be liked.**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEGAN! Today she turns fifteen, and I just want to say how much I love her (platonically) and that you mean so much to all of us (we didn't _really _steal Felix). Congratulations to the first official member of the 15+ club, you go Glen Coco!**

* * *

_Hollybridge Homecoming Dance_

_Don't forget the annual Hollybridge Homecoming Dance! It seems the "official" Hollybridge newsletter missed out one of the greatest social events of the school calendar, so I – social chair, Kelly Prescott – felt it was my duty to inform you of all the details._

_Where? County Hall. Our budget was brutally cut this year._

_When? Next week, Friday, 9:00pm till late._

_Why? To party, of course!_

_Kelly Prescott_

_Social Chair_

Chapter Six

"I'm sorry, sir, I had an unavoidable family emergency…" I began, thinking he was about to question me about my absence from his lesson. Paul merely laughed mirthlessly.

"It doesn't matter." He dismissed me almost immediately. He placed his cell phone calmly on the desktop in front of him and balled the piece of paper lying next to it into a ball before putting it – not into the trashcan behind him, but into a drawer in the desk instead.

"I don't think I've met such a poor excuse for a student as you before, Mr De Silva," he addressed me, coolly.

"I don't think I've met such a poor excuse for a teacher before you," I shot back. Paul flinched. I grinned.

"I think you should be taking a leaf out of Susannah Simon's book," Paul told me, as he stepped out from behind his desk. "She knows how to show some respect towards teachers."

"I think you are planning than taking more than a leaf out of Susannah's book," I replied smoothly, and Paul smiled faintly – though there was no friendliness in his smirk. He ran a hand across the desk and knocked his cell off the surface, causing it to hit the hard floor and smash into several pieces. My eyes were glued to it – though Paul didn't appear to care.

Instead, he picked a compass up inside his pencil-case and began twirling it between his fingers. I took a few steps backwards; feeling the sharp edge of the table behind me hit my back and cause a sharp pain to shoot up my spine. I gripped the wood fearfully.

"Poor, poor Jesse," Paul said softly, watching the gleaming point of the compass spin round and round. "He thinks I'm going to hurt him."

"Well, aren't you?" I asked. I didn't feel afraid anymore. I felt mad – mad that he was constantly making a mockery of me and thought he could get away with stealing the love of my life. I felt my hands curl into fists and my glare harden on Paul – his infuriating stare still fixed on the compass.

"Of course, I won't hurt you _too_ much," he continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "But only for Suze's sake." His quick abbreviation of her name made my blood boil. I had never called her 'Suze'. She would always be Susannah to me. "She's always telling me the things you two talk about – and how you call her '_querida_'. I wonder how she would react if she knew what it really means…"

My breath caught in my throat. If Paul was the one who told Susannah how I felt, it would all be too much. I could hear him now, mimicking me in a high voice and then him sneering at my emotion with Susannah, cackling cruelly and brainwashing her with his clever charisma and handsome allure.

He was nearing me now – just a few footsteps away from me. The compass still held its place between his fingers, looking more like a dagger now that ever. I eyed the point with a suspicious eye, and for the first time, Paul made eye-contact with me, breaking his stern gaze on the compass. His azure eyes were colder than ice – full of hatred. Hatred for me.

Whilst we kept eye-contact, I could still see out of the corner of my eye his smooth, tanned hand move closer – holding the silver compass. I suddenly realised what he was trying to do, and moved out of the way just in time, hitting his face with my fist as I moved.

Paul was thrown backwards by my punch, hitting the desk I had stepped backwards into only a minute ago and rolling over the top of it – the compass lying abandoned on the floor.

"You think you could get away with something as obvious as that?" I asked him, almost sneering as his stupidity. Paul simply picked himself up and smiled, this thin lips nearly disappearing.

"Why not?" he answered. "I've done it before." Something in that statement chilled me to the bone.

I picked up the chair sitting in front of me and threw it at him – the back leg missing his head by centimetres as he ducked. He appeared the other side of the desk I was standing behind, and punched me straight in the face – sending me sprawling between the gaps of two desks. I rubbed my sore jawline, miming biting to lubricate the joint again.

"Got you, didn't I?" Paul smirked. I was back on my feet in an instant, making my way towards him and ready to push him into his stupid shiny whiteboard within seconds. I promptly did so, causing him to hit his head hard and fall to the floor, dazed.

"Stay away from Susannah!" I ordered, whilst I held some authority. Paul looked up at me through half-shut eyes. "She's too good for you!"

"Yet she doesn't want you," Paul retorted, getting back on his feet and brushing himself down. "Can't you face it, Jesse? You just don't have what she's looking for. You can be the guy who double-dutches with her in the schoolyard, and I can be the one who satisfies her romantically." I scowled, getting read to fight again. "Unless… you don't want to share."

I released a horrific roar of anguish and hit him again and again in the head, so hard a trickle of blood poured down from the cut I had caused in his forehead. We had both started to sweat, although I managed to get a strong whiff of aftershave as he launched himself on top of me and we rolled about on the floor, kicking and punching. My hands were becoming covered in blood – both his and mine.

I pushed him off and he hit another desk – causing the wood to groan – and I steadied myself, walking towards the door in case I needed a quick escape.

"Preparing to surrender already?" he asked, icily. "I didn't think you were a coward, Jesse De Silva. A lot of other things maybe, but not a coward."

"I was just seeing if perhaps you couldn't handle a full fight now," I replied. "And maybe you wanted to call it a day. I know how the elderly need an afternoon nap." I knew Paul couldn't be more than two years older than me, but I couldn't resist slipping in a comment about his age.

"My age is in my favour," Paul said, wiping blood from his nose. He took a few steps towards me. We were both now less than a metre away from the door. "Suze happens to like mature men."

I was just about to swing my arm into his nose again and hear the satisfying sound of tearing nasal cartilage, before we were rudely interrupted. Mark Pulsford – my lab partner – had pushed open the door to 201, and was now gawking at the pair of us in awe, admiring the blood stains on our shirts and the states of our faces.

"What do you want, Mark?" Paul tried to query patiently, though I could hear the adrenaline pulsing through his voice.

"Oh, nothing…" he began to close the door again. "Jesse – look out!"

In the time my attention had been drawn from Paul and towards Mark, Paul had swiped a pair of scissors from his desk and had been about to plunge them into the side of my stomach where I had raised my arm in mid-punch, before Mark had pushed me out of the way, and instead been dealt the most-probably fatal injury. His face froze in horror – his mouth wide open and his limbs becoming weak as he dropped a pile of books to the floor in agony.

Paul cried out in terror, and Mark fell to the floor, his body oozing blood. I was by his side within seconds, feeling for a pulse and reassuring my shaking lab partner. "It's O.K," I kept muttering, trying to comfort myself as much as Mark. "It's O.K, it's O.K…"

I looked around wildly for a phone to call 911, and then for Paul so that he could do it for me whilst I stayed by Mark's sign, but there was no sign of him.

Paul had fled.

* * *

It was hours later, but I still couldn't wash the feel of blood from my hands. I'd showered three times but still wasn't feeling any better. I'd locked myself in my dormitory all day – after being thrown out of the emergency room, as it was going to be hours until they knew anything about Mark's situation – and was hoping that schoolwork was going to make everything feel O.K. 

I hadn't told anyone it was Paul who had injured Mark – I had simply said I found him like it, and that it looked like it had been Mark who had caused the accident himself – and was now desperately trying to study biology without a picture of my teacher flooding into my mind.

"Sickle cell anaemia was most probably caused due to a mutation in the gene for normal haemoglobin…" I muttered, scrawling away with my pen and jabbing furiously at my notepad. "And has since spread across the population, particularly in regions where malaria is rife. Those carrying Sickle Cell Trait will be able to survive in conditions with malaria as the malaria parasite finds the sickled cells harder to attack and feed on…"

"Ew, gross." I looked up to see Susannah standing over me, smiling down friendlily, her arms crossed, carrying a few textbooks. I smiled back, weakly, and she sat beside me on my bed. "How are you feeling?" she asked, and she dropped something into my lap.

_A Sophomore's Guide to Biology. _I looked at the textbook, and then to Susannah, who shrugged. "I just figured schoolwork would make you feel better." I laughed feebly and the gesture, and flipped it open to the first bookmarked page.

"Is this what I missed today?" I questioned, looking at several diagrams of karyotypes. She nodded, and handed me her notes – neatly written, without any mistakes. I was impressed. "What has suddenly improved your work ethic and interest in biology?" I asked, though I knew the answer. I just didn't want to think about it – especially considering the events of that morning.

"Paul's just amazing," Susannah sighed. "We've been talking after class – and I've been showing him around campus… and he's just got so much to say." She smiled dreamily. "He knows so much more than me."

_Including how to romance naïve university students_, I added silently.

I just listened politely, whilst copying Susannah's notes into my notepad in my own words. I was just managing to tune her words out completely, when something made my ears perk.

"…you won't say anything, will you Jesse?" Her eyes were pleading. I dropped my pen and frowned confusedly.

"What was that?" I queried, realising I'd only caught the end of her sentence. Susannah chewed her lip nervously.

"He's a mediator, Jess," she replied, gently. "He told me so himself. We were having a really deep conversation – sort of confessions by candlelight – and I told him I could see ghosts." I sucked in my breath.

"You _what? Querida_, how could you be so stupid? You've only known Paul Slater a week!"

Susannah took my hands comfortingly. "It's O.K," she said, her warm breath tickling my chin. "He's one too. He said he didn't know anyone else who could do it – except his brother, but his brother doesn't even know yet. He's still figuring it out."

"And Paul hasn't thought to lend a hand?" I finished, angrily.

"It's important for him to realise himself," she replied, calmly and matter-of-factly. I knew almost certainly that those words weren't her own. "Paul says Jack's nearly there, anyway. Oh, and Jess, his eyes are so blue…"

I rolled my own eyes. I wondered if Paul really could see ghosts, or was just trying to get closer to Susannah. Either way, he was still dangerous.

* * *

"So, in Mr Slater's absence today, I will be teaching you…" 

I wandered into Biology with Susannah, late. It had been hard waking the both of us up this morning – we had fallen asleep in my dorm watching scary movies (Susannah had finally managed to drag me away from schoolwork) at two o'clock this morning – and we had known running across the courtyard that we were going to be late. I turned to see our usual, grey-haired, braces-wearing substitute writing on the whiteboard instead of Paul. I smiled to myself, and took a seat behind Susannah.

Mark's seat was empty.

I was writing up the task that had been set to us, when Susannah turned around in her seat subtly to hand me a white note folded up several times. I took it slowly and made sure our teacher was immersed in his men's magazine before opening it.

_Paul and I are going to the Homecoming Dance together._

I felt my stomach turn inside out, and suddenly felt the urge to be sick. I was about to stick up my hand and ask if I could go to the bathroom, before I got another note.

_I'm sorry – I know we were planning to go as friends. Can you invite anyone else? We could double!_

I tore off a corner of my page and wrote back:

**Are you and Paul officially a couple?**

Susannah took a while to reply. I could see her sucking her pen in thought instead of starting her essay about reproduction – a topic she usually enjoyed.

_I don't know. It's not allowed here, I know, but he's such a nice guy._

**Be careful.** I was quick to reply.

She turned around and mouthed: "I will." I nodded.

I stared at the note lying in my hand. _Can you invite anyone else? We could double!_

I pondered on this. It was too late to ask anyone else now – everybody would have a date. The only person I knew who didn't was Cee-Cee, an over-achiever like me, who didn't believe in organized social events like the Homecoming Dance. I knew that if her best friend Adam McTavish asked her, however, her furious dislike for the dance would soon be forgotten. She too was in love with her best friend. She too knew than unrequited love burned the soul.

"Right, O.K." I looked up from where I had started my essay – though so far I had only managed a few disjointed words, and saw the head-cheerleader standing at the front of the classroom, scanning the students. I cast my gaze back at my work. She had come to deliver a message to Susannah, no doubt. It was most likely that cheerleading practice was cancelled, or something.

Susannah would be so disappointed.

Mark's chair was pulled backwards – I watched it from the corner of my eye. A soft, flirtatious voice spoke – so gently I had to strain my ears to recognize what she was saying.

"Is this seat taken?" The head-cheerleader stood next to me, and all I could see was stare at her shiny black patent shoes. I was so surprised when she laid her books on the desk beside me, and sat down anyway. "I guess not," she continued, laughing. I shook myself, urging myself to speak.

"Sorry," I said, suddenly. I held out my hand. "I'm Jesse De Silva."

She tossed her glossy black curls over her shoulder and took my hand, her skin soft and her nails manicured. She was still wearing her ruby necklace. "Nice to meet you, Jesse," she said, smiling enough so that I could see her perfect and straight white teeth. They shone in the bright light of the lab. "I'm Maria."


	7. Hollybridge Homecoming Dance

**A/N Wow! I can't believe how many reviews the last chapter got - that's amazing! We reached 100 for sure. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, please keep it up. You have no idea how much it motivated me to keep writing :-)**

**This is for everyone who reviewed. Hope you like it!**

* * *

_**Bulletin**_

_Pupils are reminded that teacher-student relations are not tolerated at Hollybridge. Any suggestive behaviour towards members of staff will result in immediate punishment, if not exclusion._

_Your headmistress,_

_Penelope Hollybridge_

Chapter Seven

"But I just don't understand!"

I took the pencil from Maria's hand and drew a thin line connecting the primary consumer and the secondary consumer. I then connected the producer straight to the tertiary consumer, dodging the line I had drawn only five minutes ago linking the producer to the primary consumer. Maria sighed, and I put down the pencil. She traced the lines with her finger, before putting her head in her hands.

"But this is simple," I said, picking up the pencil again and forcing it into Maria's hand. "This is eighth grade Biology." Maria pouted, her full, red lips jutting out attractively.

"Do you know how many years it's been since eighth grade?" she moaned, twirling the wood between her fingers and then drawing feminine hearts in the corners of my revision cards. "I don't really like to look back at the times when I was fourteen. I was ugly then."

"I find that hard to believe," I replied, without thinking. The compliments flowed from my mouth so easily – after years of them for Susannah. I blushed, and Maria smiled. I shook my head nervously, breaking our eye-contact. I reached for the first worksheet and held it between us. "Try again," I told her, rubbing out my own pencil lines and handing it back to her.

This wasn't how I originally planned my weekend. I normally spent my Saturdays looking through classwork once, and then spending the day in town with Susannah – usually ending with us sharing a pizza back in my dorm room or us walking through the park down the street hand-in-hand. But today I had spent in the library with Maria, helping her with basic Biology, which she seemed to find so bamboozling.

_**She tossed her glossy black curls over her shoulder and took my hand, her skin soft and her nails manicured. She was still wearing her ruby necklace. "Nice to meet you, Jesse," she said, smiling enough so that I could see her perfect and straight white teeth. They shone in the bright light of the lab. "I'm Maria."**_

_**All I could do was nod, and I picked up my pen and began frantically copying from the board again. Maria dropped her bag onto the desk and leant back in her chair, crossing her bronzed, slender legs and twisting a curl around her finger. I dared myself to look at her. She'd spotted me before my head had even turned a fraction of a centimetre. She blinked.**_

_**"Yes?" she asked, sweetly. I noticed she hadn't unpacked any equipment.**_

_**"Are you… a student in this lesson?" I asked, quietly, my voice more hoarse than a whisper. Maria laughed lightly – flirtatiously yet not contemptuously. **_

_**"Oh, yes," she replied, and I watched her as her eyes darted to the chalk-white scar through my eyebrow, and then down my neck. I shivered. "I'm gonna be in these lessons till the end of the semester."**_

_**I narrowed my eyes. "Aren't you a senior?" Head-cheerleaders were always seniors, I was sure of it. Well, it was what I had gathered about whatever Susannah had babbled about the subject when she wasn't drooling over Paul. Maria nodded her pretty head.**_

_**"Yes," she said. "But I'm so freaking bad at Biology they stuck me in a sophomore class to catch up!" I smiled politely. "I switched to Biology in Junior Year," she explained. I nodded slowly. "I don't know how I'm gonna get out of this place with a degree."**_

_**"I'll give you a hint," I told her, gesturing towards her bag. "You need a pen." She laughed again, and there was friendliness in her chuckle that was infectious, addictive. Her brown eyes shone.**_

_**"Say," Maria began thoughtfully, and she rubbed her nose shyly. "You don't tutor, do you? Things would be a hell of a lot easier to learn if I had a good-looking guy teaching me 'em." From her skin tone, she appeared Spanish, like me. However, her accent was more American than mine. She slurred most of her "t's" and rolled her "l's", whilst I preferred to clip my consonants. Her dazzling smile was hard to resist.**_

_**"Sure," I found myself saying. "I'll tutor you." Maria squeezed my hand, and I looked at my skin as it tingled.**_

_**"Thanks, Jesse," she answered. "I owe you."**_

Maria furrowed her brow, and stuck out her tongue slightly before drawing three lines in the correct places. She finished with a flourish, and smiled brilliantly at me. "Is that right?" she asked.

"You either have a photographic memory, or you've finally cracked it," I replied, and Maria sighed, satisfied, and put down her pencil.

"World's best tutor," she said silkily, and I felt her one hand sliding delicately up my leg.

I jumped and got out of my chair – Maria pulled back her hand like nothing had happened. She blinked innocently at me. "I have to go," I declared, shakily, and I cleared my throat. "Water – I need a glass of…" She nodded happily, and I half-ran out of the library like my feet were on fire.

It was strange, for me to be one who got attention from the opposite sex. I was used to Susannah receiving admiring looks from most of the sports teams - except for those who had other interests...- but for mine to be the leg someone was stroking… it sent shivers up my spine. And I wasn't sure if they were the bad shivers, or not.

I found the water fountain and leant over it, seeing my blurry reflection in the dull silvery metal, and drank nervously. I straightened and wiped my mouth clean, feeling a little calmer than I did when I left the library. I put a foot forward to start towards the library again, when I heard a shriek – a familiar shriek.

"You bitch!"

I turned and began running down the stairs, my shoes squeaking on the marble. As I reached the foot of the staircase, the yells and squeals got louder, I recognised them to belong to Susannah and her fellow cheerleader Kelly Prescott. I pushed the door to the courtyard open to see the pair of them in their black cheerleading uniforms, locked in a feud. Susannah had hold of Kelly's head under her arm.

"Get off me!" Kelly ordered, piercing Susannah's bare arms with her blood-red nails. "Get off me, you stupid skank!"

"I can't believe you did it!" Susannah replied, releasing Kelly and thrusting her into a muddy puddle, staining her uniform. Kelly yelped, and shook her damp hair furiously. "Do you _want _me to get expelled?"

"Is that a trick question?" Kelly demanded, picking herself up and running her hands through her honey-blonde curls self-consciously. Susannah proceeded to push her down again. I ran to stop her throwing herself into an attack.

"Susannah!" I cried, and I laced my hands around her elbow, pulling her back. "_Querida_, what is the matter with you?" She pulled herself free, and whirled round to speak to me, shoving an accusing finger in Kelly's direction.

"That stupid whore nearly got me expelled!" I rolled my eyes at her superficial use of insults. "By ratting me out for something I didn't even do!" I noticed a meagre blush appear on her cheeks at these words, and my mind flicked back to the bulletin I received in my post-box this morning.

_Pupils are reminded that teacher-student relations are not tolerated at Hollybridge._

Kelly had found out about Susannah and Paul, and had told Mrs Hollybridge. I could tell by the look in Susannah's eyes. She looked like she was about to burst into tears.

Kelly backed away from her, and I kept a firm grip on Susannah's elbow. She sighed, and I felt her whole body lift. "Fine," she whispered angrily, and Kelly flipped her hair before walking away as quickly as she could – no doubt to avoid people seeing her in a less-than-perfect state. I reluctantly prised my fingers from Susannah's skin, watching her exhale heavily in an attempt to cool herself down. She smiled weakly at me.

"I was so scared," she said. "I don't know how she found out!"

"Me neither," I replied, thoughtfully. "Stop chewing your lip, Susannah. Everything's going to be O.K." I pulled her in for a hug, and kissed the top of her head. I felt her squirm. "What's wrong?" I whispered into her head.

"Nothing," she answered. "It's so nice having a best friend like you, Jesse. We don't have to worry about romantic complications." I couldn't stop my heart sinking at that.

"Yeah." My voice was monotonous. She pulled out of the hug but squeezed my hand reassuringly, blinking her gorgeous green eyes up at me.

"What are you up to for the rest of the day?" she asked me. "We could hit the shops, get lattes, rent a movie…" I grimaced.

"Sorry," I replied. "I'm fully booked – tutoring Maria." Susannah stared at me blankly. I elaborated. "The new girl in our biology class. Long dark hair, vivacious personality…"

"Fabulous movie-star looks?" She finished, and laughed, dropping my fingers. Her eyes drifted slowly to the brick walls surrounding us on all sides – each one plastered with colourful flyers reminding us of certain events. I watched a smile dawn on Susannah's face.

"Hollybridge Homecoming Dance…" she read aloud, languorously. "I can't wait."

"Surely if you and Paul go together, then people will know about you two?" I asked, a little confusedly, and Susannah shot me a look that suggested she doubted my intelligence.

"We're not going 'together'," she responded exasperatedly. "But that doesn't mean I won't be able to sneak a dance or two in with the chaperone…" She curled her lips flirtatiously. The sound of me clearing my throat brought her back to earth. "Got a date yet?"

"No…" I said, unhappily. Susannah smiled.

"Perfect," she said. "I've just thought of a solution."

* * *

"You know," Maria remarked, hitching up her skirt to walk up the steps into the County Hall, her arm in mine. "This is, like, the lousiest place to have a Homecoming Dance, ever." 

"Quit complaining," Susannah replied from the other side of me, sourly. I raised an eyebrow at her warningly. After all, it had been her idea to invite Maria as my date to this stupid dance anyway.

"I wasn't complaining," Maria argued, and she caught my eye, smiling. "I was just saying. The hotel in the centre of town was way better last year."

"I'm sure it was." I chose to remain silent during Maria and Susannah's bickering. It seemed like one of those girl things that resulted in a boy getting hurt if they dared to get involved. I didn't fancy taking that risk. I was planning on leaving County Hall that night with all my limbs still attached to my body.

"So," Maria's tone turned taunting. "Where's your date tonight?"

"Sick," she answered pointedly – this was the story we had agreed on yesterday. "Called me this afternoon." Maria nodded, doubtfully.

"Oh, right," she said, sarcastically. "I tend to find pretend boyfriends do get sick right before you have to bring them out in public."

"He's not pretend!" Susannah cried. I could tell she was beginning to regret suggesting Maria came along.

"Girls," I said softly, and both their attentions snapped to focus on me. "Can this be a nice, civil evening? Or do I have to send one of you two home right now?" They looked at me sheepishly. "Because I can – I can whistle for a cab and it'll be here within seconds."

"He can whistle real loud," Maria added, for Susannah's benefit. Susannah scowled.

"I know," she said bitterly. "I've heard it." There was a sense of ground teeth in her reply.

I handed the ticket-collector our two tickets, and Susannah miserably surrendered hers. She perked up, however, when she spied Paul through the double-doors leading into the main room, where corny coloured lights were flashing, and all that could heard of the music was a heavy bass.

"Let's dance," Maria suggested, lifting my hand up high and dragged me through the double doors. I pulled a face before they closed, at Susannah, who was distractedly gazing at Paul.

Maria took my hands and began moving expertly to the music, whilst I stepped to the side and back awkwardly, watching Susannah longingly as she participated in an enthusiastic conversation with Paul over the punch bowl. He poured some pink liquid into a plastic cup and handed it to her, which she accepted with a smouldering glance.

"Are you O.K?" Maria asked me concernedly, as the tune changed to a slow ballad. She shifted our bodies easily into a slow-dance pose, draping her arms around my neck and placing my hands on her slim waist. "You seem a little down."

"I'm tired," I answered. Maria rested her head on my shoulder. I turned the pair of us around slightly so that I watch Susannah. She had disappeared from the punch bowl – Paul now stood alone. I found Susannah in another corner of the hall, avidly gossiping with Debbie Mancuso – Kelly Prescott's double in everything except intelligence. Meaning Debbie had even less than Kelly.

Suddenly, Susannah's mouth dropped, and I watched her scan the crowd for me, making her way through the hordes of people and carrying her punch – sloshing the liquid on the floor everywhere. Paul had disappeared from the refreshment table.

"I know how to wake you up," Maria announced suddenly, but I was distracted. Susannah had spotted me and was getting closer. "Come with me?" She didn't wait for an answer, and instead linked her fingers with mine, pulling me into the crowd.

"Jesse!" Susannah cried, lifting her head above the crowd and calling towards me. "Jesse!"

"_Querida!" _I waved my free hand in the air. "Here!"

She forced her way out of the crowd and came face-to-face with me, Debbie close behind her, eager for gossip. Maria lingered next to me, her hands still clasping mine. Susannah's face was flushed.

"Mark Pulsford got stabbed!" she gasped, and Maria snorted, pulling me away again towards the double door. "And by-"

"Whatever," Maria muttered, and Susannah's voice got fainter - I couldn't make out the rest of her words. Maria leant against the door, and it swung open. Tugging me by the hand we got closer to a supply closet, where I heard raised, angry voices.

"Do you have any idea what this could do to him?" I heard Paul demand irately, and the recipient stuttered nervously.

"Y-y-yeah Paul, but it wasn't our fault – he just started asking all these questions and it just slipped out-"

Maria ignored the argument that was obviously going on inside the closet, and eased the door open slowly, interrupting Paul's dispute. The boy beside him was skinny and pale, and wore glasses that he had to keep pushing up his nose. Paul opened his mouth to accuse the boy, but then he spied Maria and me, and turned his attentions to us.

"Mr De Silva," Paul said curtly, and I nodded slowly. He laid a hand on the boy's back and pushed him out of the supply closet, then began to follow him. He halted when he reached me. His eyes were on the same level as mine.

"You didn't hear anything?" he asked, threateningly. I felt obliged to lie.

"No, sir."

"Good."

He narrowed his bright blue eyes at me disbelievingly, before reluctantly walking away again. His footsteps were light and soft - I had to watch him enter the main building to convince myself that he had well and truly left us alone.

"Is that our Biology teacher?" Maria questioned inquisitively. I nodded, and she gave a low whistle. "Man, that's some fine piece of work." She pouted seductively at me, and placed both hands on my shoulders, shoving me into the supply closet and shutting the door so that we were in darkness.

"What are you doing?" I enquired.

I was answered by the touch of her soft lips on mine.


	8. Detective Work

**A/N Aw, come on you guys, what happened to the 22 reviews I had for Chapter 6? Please if you read, review. I really appreciate them and are always happy to return the favour. Do you need another target? Lets aim for 140, O.K? You managed to supersede the last target I set!**

**Note: I changed Maria's surname, because it wouldn't make any sense for Jesse and Maria to be cousins in this fic.**

* * *

**Hollybridge Weekly Newsletter**

By Cee-Cee Webb

_Oh dear. Not a good week for Hollybridge. The Homecoming Dance resulted in a fight between senior Maria De Cruz and sophomore Susannah Simon – chaperone Paul Slater had to escort the latter home to her dormitory._

_Bryce Martinson failed to score any points in the match against Drockledown, his excuse being "some frat guys from across the state yelling abuse at me, man". No need to say that Coach was less than impressed with his star player's behaviour._

_And lastly, Hollybridge was forced to forfeit the first cheerleading meet of the year, due to two members of its squad scrapping just before the performance. Sophomores Kelly Prescott and yes, you guessed it, Susannah Simon have been kicked off the squad until further notice._

_I think I speak for most of the school when I say: Pull yourselves together, Hollybridge students!_

Chapter Eight

_**"What are you doing?" I enquired, but I was only answered with the touch of her soft lips on mine. **_

_**At first I was so surprised I just stood there, wooden, rooted to the spot. I saw faintly her porcelain hand move to my head and begin to run through my hair, and another hand place on my back, and drift down my back until-**_

_**"O.K," I said, pushing her away and running my own hand through my hair, trying to return it back to how it had been before Maria chose to mess it up. "I…I don't think this is a good idea."**_

_**Maria pouted again. "Oh, please," she snorted. "You think the chaperone's gonna find us in here? He's too busy trying to work out how to get into that Susannah's pants." I felt a wave of bile rise in my throat.**_

_**"It's…it's not that," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "It's just we don't know each other very well yet. I don't feel comfortable doing this with you." **_

_**Maria shrugged. "O.K-" She went to walk out of the closet, but in the darkness she tripped over a bucket. I reached out to catch her and she whirled around in my arms, smiling. "Thanks," she said, not releasing my hands.**_

_**"Jesse!"**_

_**The light snapped on, and Maria and I broke apart to see Susannah standing in the doorway, furious. Debbie Mancuso stood behind her, arms crossed, and a pleased look on her face. I had no doubt that the fact that I was caught in a closet with Maria De Cruz would be all over the school tomorrow. Maria cleared her throat.**_

_**"I'd better be going…" she began, but Susannah thrust an accusing finger in her direction.**_

_**"You are going nowhere," she ordered, and Maria froze, an amused look on her face. Susannah turned her head in my direction. "God, I leave you one minute and you're halfway to Happyland with Senorita de Slut-"**_

_**Maria muttered something in Spanish – I could translate, but I don't think I should – and Susannah's eyes narrowed. "Did you know Paul attacked Mark Pulsford?" she demanded. I pulled a face, and her mouth dropped.**_

_**"You – out," she said to Maria, and she pulled her by the spaghetti straps of her dress, before slamming the door in her face. She spun around to face me, furious. "Why the **_**hell **_**didn't you tell me anything?" **_

_**I thought fast. "Because I wasn't sure of the truth," I replied, astonished at how fast the lies poured from my mouth. "I didn't want to believe it myself…so I didn't want to worry you." Susannah seemed to soften. "I'm sorry, **_**querida**_**." She smiled weakly.**_

_**"Always the gentleman," she said softly, and she put her head on my shoulder. "I love you Jess." My heart began to race. "As a friend, you know?"**_

_**"I know," I replied, sadly. "I love you too."**_

_**"If you're done with my date," interrupted Maria, pulling the door open, and standing with her hands on her hips. "I'd like to actually dance with him before this night is over." Susannah stepped away from me.**_

_**"I don't know what your problem is," she said, walking towards Maria threateningly. "But Jesse is my best friend, and this night is for us, too."**_

_**"If you wanted this night to be for you two," Maria growled, her dark eyes glinting furiously to match her black, sparkly dress. "Then maybe you should have invited him first. Or were you too busy drooling over that new science teacher to even consider that?"**_

_**I heard the slap Susannah dealt Maria before I saw it. Maria clutched her red cheek in shock, and Debbie ran into the main building, crying "Fight! Fight!" Maria extended a leg to trip over Susannah, who promptly landed on her face.**_

_**"Stop!" I cried, feeling a slight sense of déjà vu. This seemed to be the second catfight I had attempted to break up within a space of a few days. "Maria, Susannah, stop!"**_

_**"Whose side are **_**you **_**on, Jesse?" Maria asked, sneering slightly before Susannah pulled her to the floor and the two began rolling around slapping each other and prodding each other with their dangerous-looking high heeled shoes and shrieking. A crowd had formed a semi-circle around them. Paul was fighting his way to the front, along with his fellow chaperone, Mrs Hollybridge. The skinny boy had disappeared.**_

_**"Stop!" roared Paul, and everybody fell silent. The two girls on the floor froze at the sound of his voice. Susannah rolled off Maria sheepishly. Mrs Hollybridge pulled them up by their wrists.**_

_**"Never in my entire career as an educational administrator have I seen such behaviour!" she bellowed, and Maria and Susannah cringed at the volume. "I am ashamed to be your headmistress!"**_

_**"She started it," said Maria and Susannah simultaneously. They sniggered.**_

_**"I don't care who started it," Mrs Hollybridge whispered, dramatically altering the tone of her voice. "I just want one of you gone. Now."**_

_**"I'll go," Susanna decided exasperatedly. "Seeing as Maria was so adamant about spending time with her…date." She spoke the word 'date' like as if it was poisonous. Her stare seemed to think so too. Paul placed a hand on her shoulder, and swivelled her around.**_

_**"I will escort Miss Simon home," he said, and Mrs Hollybridge nodded.**_

_I bet you'll escort her home, __**I added silently.**_

_**I watched Susannah and Paul leave the building, and then the buzz of the room built up again, the couples slowly filing back into the main room. I turned back to Maria. "I think I'm going to take off," I said, slowly. I didn't feel too good, it was true, but also I wanted to keep an eye on Paul and Susannah.**_

_**Comprehension dawned on Maria's face. "Ah," she said. "I thought so."**_

_**"Thought what?" I asked, frowning. Maria smiled.**_

_**"You love her," she answered, and I was grateful that the lobby was now empty. "It's written all over your face."**_

I jolted awake, breathing heavily. I blinked a few times in the darkness, gathering my surroundings. I felt for my comforter, and sat up slowly. My throat was dry, and there was no glass of water on my beside table. I'd been too stressed and confused to get one before I fell asleep. I swivelled around so that my legs dangled over the side of my bed, and exhaled slowly.

Why had I chosen to re-live that again? Once had been enough, it had left me lying awake for at least an hour before I could drift off. I switched on my lamp, and stood up. I pulled open the drawer, and found a few dollars. A trip to the vending machine was in order, I felt. The clock read 6:00 am. The cafeteria would be open by now.

I devotedly pulled on my worn Hollybridge hooded jumper, and slipped on my trainers. I couldn't sleep anymore. I needed breakfast. Slipping the keys into my pocket, I closed the door behind me, quietly. I'd experienced enough drama already in the last week. I didn't need a verbal assault from Bryce Martinson or any of his cronies for waking them up before the sun had officially risen.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the canteen was fairly empty. I headed straight for the vending machines, and bought myself a bottle of water and a bar of Snickers. I then heard my name being called.

"Jess!" I turned around to see Susannah waving at me. A few of the other students – obviously hung-over after drinking their own punch at the dance last night – frowned irritably at the volume of her voice. I walked over to her table, smiling apologetically at the students as I passed them.

"Good morning, _querida_," I said. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Like ass," she replied, bluntly, dunking a biscuit into her black coffee. "I mean, I have bruises all over my…" She trailed off. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," I answered. "_Querida_, people are staring at you."

"Do you not _remember _last night?" she asked, the _duh _in her voice detectable. "I totally kicked Maria De Cruz back to Madrid."

"She emigrated from Barcelona," I offered helpfully, and Susannah scowled, throwing her biscuit into the bin behind her expertly before draining her chipped mug of coffee.

"Of course _you'd _know that," she said bitterly, and I blushed. "What happened in that closet? You looked pretty…cosy in there." I shifted in my cold, hard, plastic seat uncomfortably and tried to change the subject. It turned out I didn't have to.

The sleepy basketball captain wandered past our table, and dropped an orange flyer by our plates, without a word. He then stumbled slowly to the next table and did the same. Susannah picked up the flyer and scanned it speedily.

"Basketball game," she said, in a monotonous voice. "They're desperate for people to actually show up – the team's so crap no-one bothers." She reached for my empty Snickers wrapper and began tearing it up nervously. She lowered her voice. "Paul's favourite sport is basketball he used to play it with his brother."

"The brother that doesn't know he's a mediator yet?" I asked, feigning interest so that we wouldn't revert back to the embarrassing topic that was Maria. "Seems like they used to get on really well."

"Yeah." Susannah inspected her empty mug. "Paul said Jack used to adore him – Paul felt the same way. But then Jack just stopped talking to him one day – apparently Paul dated a girl Jack had a totally unrequited crush on." I traced the ring of my water bottle.

"Well, I gotta get going," I said, standing up and screwing the lid back on my bottle. "I still want to get a run in before class." Susannah smiled.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you and your freakish exercise routine," she replied. "God, you make me want to go to sleep for a week just thinking about running." She groaned. "Ugh...running."

"Well if running offends you so much," I retorted, grinning. "I'll just lift some weights in the gym." Susannah faked swooning.

"Please," she begged. "That would be _way _more entertaining." She poked out her tongue at me as I began walking away. I waved, and then my walk morphed into a sprint as I hurried to the gym. It opened at 6:15, but I had to fight my way through all the religious athletes first.

I was just about to turn the corner into the courtyard before something turned the corner coming the other way first, and we collided heavily. My height and weight had managed to knock a small girl to floor – who I recognised a few seconds later, as I bent down to the floor to help her up, as Maria. Her plump, scarlet lips curled into a smile once she saw my face.

"I should have known it'd be you to wake me up properly this morning," she said, flirtatiously, and I squirmed uncomfortably. Maria wrapped two arms around my neck and pulled me in for a kiss, before I gave her the cheek. She didn't flinch – and instead laid her mouth on my stubbly skin. I broke free of her of her clutches and leant nonchalantly against the cool brick wall, inhaling the cold New Hampshire morning air.

"Listen, Maria," I began, awkwardly. "I…you know how I feel. And how I don't feel about you. I don't want to lead anyone on…especially you, who could have anybody in this school." The smile didn't fade from Maria's face, to my surprise.

"You know," she replied, looking down at her nails and then up to my face again. "I was kinda hoping you'd drunk some spiked punch when you admitted how you felt about your best friend last night. I guess not."

"I'm sorry," I offered, and Maria shrugged.

"You can't help who you fall for," she added, with a meaningful glance in my direction. I turned slightly pink. "Friends?" she asked, and she stuck out a hand. I glanced at it in the deep dawn sun.

"Sure," I answered with a smile, and I took her soft hand. Loud footsteps echoing on the hard stone in the breezeway told me someone was nearing, and I whirled around in time to see Paul Slater march in a business-like manner past me, brushing against my shoulders and causing me to falter. I exchanged a suspicious look with Maria.

"God, what's got his panties in a twist?" Maria remarked, sourly, watching him scurry across the courtyard.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," I replied, and then an idea hit me. "Hey, Maria?" She looked my way. "Come with me?"

* * *

"And _why _are we snooping around Paul's office at 6:30 in the morning?" Maria asked, her high-heeled shoes making soft clicks as we circled his desk. I glanced out of the window and looked down at the courtyard to check he wasn't coming back.

"Because," I replied, exasperatedly. "There's something not quite right about him, and you know it." Maria nodded knowingly. I chose not to mention Julia's murder – not that I was sure Paul had anything to do with that. It just seemed strange that Julia had died the same week Paul had come to Hollybridge.

"Who's that?" she asked, gesturing towards a photo in a frame on Paul's desk. I picked it up and examined it. Paul was sitting on a park bench – the gorgeous green foliage behind them reminded me of Susannah's eyes – with a skinny little kid. It wasn't the one that I'd seen him with last night. It was another.

This guy had brown curly hair – just like Paul's – only his gave him more the appearance of a walking Q-Tip, and not a boy-band wannabe like Paul. He wore a golf-shirt like Paul, only Paul's broad shoulders filled it better. It didn't help that the kid's pasty complexion clashed with the off-white of the material.

And then I noticed something – a dog tag dangling from a chain around his neck, and engraved on the silver was the letter _**J**_My mind rewound to my conversation with Susannah less than twenty minutes ago.

_**She lowered her voice. "Paul's favourite sport is basketball he used to play it with his brother."**_

_**"The brother that doesn't know he's a mediator yet?" I asked, feigning interest so that we wouldn't revert back to the embarrassing topic that was Maria. "Seems like they used to get on really well."**_

_**"Yeah." Susannah inspected her empty mug. "Paul said Jack used to adore him – Paul felt the same way."**_

"That's his brother," I replied, and I replaced the frame back on the desk. There was something in Jack's blue eyes that chilled me to the bone. I tore my eyes from the picture and began filing through the first drawer. "Take the other drawer," I said to Maria, and she obeyed, kneeling beside me and pulling open the drawer the other side of the chair and flicking through the papers inside it.

"Any idea who Father Dominic is?" she murmured, whipping a tea-stained piece of paper from the pile and handed it to me. "It says he lives in Carmel. That's where you came from, right?"

"Right…" I echoed, reading the paper slowly, bewildered. _Father Dominic, Father Serra Junipero Mission Academy, Grades K-12, Carmel, Northern California. _"He was my principal." Maria pulled a face.

"That's weird."

I stood up, eyes still fixed on the small piece of paper. Why did Paul have the details of my former principal in his desk? It made no sense – Susannah had clearly stated Paul had come from Seattle, not Carmel. And I certainly didn't remember Paul ever attending Junipero Serra. The paper was dropped in shock though when I saw his muscled figure making its way through the courtyard.

"Drop them," I ordered to Maria, who abandoned the folders she had been searching through immediately. "He's coming." She grabbed my hand and we ran from his office, making our way through a less busy corridor to avoid Paul meeting us halfway. It was also a quicker route to my dormitory.

"My dorm's back the other way," Maria said, panting heavily once we'd stopped running. "Can I come back to yours for a few minutes? I don't want to risk running into Paul, God knows what he'd do to me." I considered this for a few moments, and then nodded. None of my neighbours would be even half-conscious yet. They didn't have to know Maria De Cruz was coming back to my dormitory.

"Are we going back there again?" she asked, after a few more minutes. We'd reached my dorm hall by now, and I fishing in my pockets for my keys, to find they were missing. "To Paul's office I mean-" She caught sight of my white face. "What's wrong?"

"My keys," I answered. "We have to go back-" I noticed Maria was smiling. She reached into her own pocket and withdrew them, the silver glinting in the faint light seeping in through the windows.

"I swiped 'em before we left," she explained. "They were on the floor."

"My hero," I exclaimed, as I slid them into the door, and pushed the door open. I took a step forwards to see Susannah sitting on my bed – her turned away from me.

"Susannah?" I asked, and she spun around to look at me – and then apparently forgetting something and whirling back around again. But it was too late. I had already seen.

"Oh my God," Maria whispered, and I was at my friend's side within the space of second. Susannah avoided my eye miserably, and I was speechless and I perused the details of her face.

Her usually flawless skin on her face was marred by a scratch, and several bruises, including one on her eye. Her hair was messily tied into a ponytail, with several loops in it like it had grabbed at. Her bottom lip was split, and a small trickle of dried blood was under her nose. She squeezed my fingers fearfully.

"I need help," she mumbled.


	9. Slaski Museum of Current Events

**A/N Sorry I didn't get this up sooner! Stupid site (...I mean _wonderful _site) wouldn't let me upload anything! I had to resort to cunning...I'm smart like that :-D**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. Please please please keep it up!**

* * *

_Hollybridge Heights Sophomore Year Biology _

_Field Trip to the Slaski Museum of Current Events _

_All sophomore students studying Biology this semester are eligible to sign up for the proposed field trip to the Slaski Museum of Current Events, New Hampshire. _

_The trip will involve students visiting the museum and art gallery, before then taking part in a scientific activity only available in the museum for a limited time. Students will need to separate into pairs, and use their scientific knowledge as well as their common sense to solve the question that has been put to them. They will be permitted to use the museum's library, as well as the exhibitions on show. _

_The sign up sheet is in Room 201, Paul Slater's laboratory. _

_Mrs Penelope Hollybridge _

_Headmistress _

Chapter Nine 

Susannah yawned, her action so sharp that her whole body shuddered as she inhaled. I watched her from the chair I had placed next to my bed where she lay asleep, tracing every detail of her face with a careful eye.

Her hazelnut complexion was smoother in the morning light, the sunshine acted kinder on her bruised cheeks and her split lip. I took her hand and smoothed it with my callused fingers, watching her body slowly rise and fall as she snoozed.

"How is she?" Maria whispered, closing my door behind her as she slipped in and handed me a plastic cup of coffee. I turned miserably to face her.

"She fell asleep about ten minutes ago," I replied, looking at my watch to see that Biology class would have finished by now, and that I should be making my way to Social Studies. My empty bag lay abandoned in the corner of the room. "She didn't say anything about who did this to her, or why."

"It had to be Paul," Maria said, voicing my silent opinions. I thought anxiously back to the scissors I had watched Paul plunge into Mark's abdomen, and then fixed my gaze upon the deep scratch across Susannah's cheek. My stomach churned. "I mean, everyone likes Suze. Even seniors in my year know who she is – she's probably been to more parties than me, and made amazing impressions on people at every single one."

"That's what worries me," I answered. "Susannah knows so many people – we shouldn't just put the blame immediately on Paul." I took the pile of letters Maria was handing me and sifted through them, dropping Susannah's limp hand to enable me to flick through them faster. One caught my eye.

"Biology field trip…" I mused, and I saw Maria nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Yeah," she replied. "I got one too. To the Slaski Museum of Current Events or something." I ripped open the envelope to see that she was right. The trip was after school today, and we had to sign up before lunchtime if we wanted to go. I tossed the letter aside. There would be no way I was going, not with Susannah in the state she was in now.

Susannah mumbled something incoherent and shifted her way from her shoulders onto her back. I took her hand again, my agitated pulse obviously reflected on my face.

"You really care about her, don't you?" Maria asked, her expression kind in contrast to my restless eyes. "It's written all over your face." She looked sad. "That's why I'd never do anything about how I feel about you. Suze needs your companionship too much."

"Who says I'd fall for you anyway?" I asked teasingly, and Maria grinned, her tanned nose wrinkling adorably.

"Oh, puh-lease," she snorted, her fingers dancing playfully onto my thigh. "I could have you if I wanted you. Like that." She clicked her fingers to demonstrate her point. "Easy peasy."

My mouth dropped open of its own accord in shock. "It is _not _easy-peasy," I argued. "Give me _some _principles." Maria moved her face closer to mine, her cool breath tickling my cheeks. Sensing her advantage, as I had become still, she climbed onto my lap, wrapping an arm slowly and deliberately around my neck so that our lips were inches away from each other.

"You still want those principles?" she asked me. My breath caught in my throat.

But then a slight movement on Susannah's part caught my eye, and I had pushed Maria off my lap quicker than you could say "homeostasis". She brushed her skirt impatiently, but perched herself on the edge of my bed and watched Susannah carefully.

Susannah's eyelids fluttered slightly, before her eyes opened completely and she smiled gratefully at me. "Hey, Jesse," she croaked, and her flaccid fingers squeezed mine gently. "What's the time?"

"It doesn't matter," I replied brusquely. "What matters is how you're feeling." Susannah narrowed her eyes in pain.

"I feel like crap," she informed me, and Maria laughed.

"You look like it too," Maria retorted. I felt the electricity fly through the air between them. I had no idea why – Susannah had made it more than clear than we were just friends. There was no need for her to be jealous.

Susannah ignored Maria, and instead scanned the room to collect her surroundings. She spotted the letter for the field trip lying on the bedside table, and reached for it. I gave it to her reluctantly.

"Field trip," she read aloud, and she looked past the paper and straight at me. "When were you going to tell me?" I glanced at her meaningfully. "Oh. Right. I've only been awake for two minutes – that'll be your excuse." I nodded, and took a sip of my coffee. "I want to go."

I started to choke on the liquid that had began to slide down my throat, and not because it had gone cold. I looked at Susannah as if she was mad. "I am not even considering letting you go until you tell me how you got those bruises on your face."

Susannah raised a hand to the blue marks on her skin expressionlessly.

"I fell," she replied, monotonously. I could tell her answer had been prepared. Maria snorted.

"Now pull the other one," she said. Susannah coughed feebly.

"All I did was ask him about his past girlfriends," she replied gently. Maria gasped. We were right. It had been Paul. He had done this to Susannah. And he was going to pay. Susannah saw my anger rise. "Jesse, no! Please don't say anything!"

"How can I _not _say anything?" I demanded. "He hurt you, and that's not O.K with me. He deserves to be locked up!" I saw Maria nod, her eyes glinting at my passionate outburst.

"He's right, Suze," Maria whispered kindly. "Paul's a dangerous guy. How could you let him do that to you?"

"That's none of your business," Susannah replied, fiercely, causing Maria to sit back slightly. Susannah turned to me. "What is this whore doing here anyway?"

"You're just mad because I kicked you off my squad," Maria retorted, her dark cheeks flushed. "And you can't take it because Jesse doesn't need you when you're off flirting with Superjerk. He's got me, and you're jealous."

I was speechless. I couldn't think of a reply, or an argument to intervene. Because of course, Maria was right. I couldn't stand up to her, because I completely and utterly agreed with her. I felt ashamed.

"Maria…" I said cautiously, but Susannah was already past furious.

"Jesse doesn't need me?" she asked, flinging the bedclothes from on top of her body and getting out of bed. "Well I don't need Jesse – you think I _want _a bodyguard 24-freaking-7? I'm gonna go sign up for that field trip right now and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"Fine," Maria responded coolly, laying a hand on my chest to stop me arguing. "Go. We don't care."

Susannah threw her feet into her shoes; her bruised face contorted in rage, and pulled my door open furiously. She then made sure it slammed loudly on her way out. I turned despondently to look at Maria, who hadn't removed her hand from my chest.

"Don't look so sad," she said to me, comfortingly. "She's going to be fine."

"You do realise what we have to do now?" I asked her, and after she returned me a blank look, I elaborated. "We have to sign up for that trip."

* * *

It had been an hour into the trip and Susannah still wasn't talking to me. She had sat at the front of the bus next to Paul deliberately to anger me. Maria's hand had squeezed mine reassuringly, though I hadn't felt any better. Susannah had avoided eye-contact with me so far, and when she had spied Maria was still clinging to my fingers she had automatically reached for Paul's, only to yank her hand away a second after their hands collided. She had forgotten they were in public.

I couldn't believe she was still putting herself in close proximity of him. After what he had done to her, it was incomprehensible. She walked with her body close to his into the museum, and something low in my stomach rumbled. I glared at the two with overwhelming jealousy.

"Chill, Jess," Maria whispered in my ear. I tried to relax the muscles in my body, but I was aware of one ticking away in my jaw. We stepped into the museum, the air-conditioning hitting us hard. Maria pulled her black coat tighter, shivering. "_Dios, _it's cold in here."

"Welcome," a young, spotty tour-guide greeted us nervously. "This – this is the Slaski Museum of Current Events. Your – your official guide will be along shortly."

There were catcalls of "rent-a-dork!" and "loser!" coming from all directions, though these quickly quietened down once our 'official' guide appeared from behind the pillar. I saw with a surprise that it was my previous principal, Father Dominic. I also noticed Paul's frame stiffen once he had caught sight of him, too. I grinned.

"Hello everyone, my name is Father Dominic, and I will be leading the planned activities for your afternoon…" He quickly introduced himself. Susannah – evidently forgetting her current anger towards me – whirled around in surprise and pulled a face at me, gesturing with her head towards the priest.

"I know," I mouthed back. Maria watched us with curiosity.

"…here by special request of the museum's owner, Dr Oliver Slaski, as I have a particular interest in biology myself, though of course not as strong as my interest for religion! Please if you would separate into pairs…"

"You and me?" Maria asked quickly, with such desperation that I had to agree. I doubted that the alternative – an afternoon receiving the cold shoulder from Susannah – would be any more fun than one with Maria. Susannah slid her fingers in the crook of Paul's arm, and he tensed slightly.

"…will be taking part in a treasure hunt – and a biological one at that! You must follow the clues and answer the questions correctly to obtain body parts – plastic ones, have no fear – and slowly begin building your own human bodies. The winners will receive a grant of…"

"Sounds fun," I mused.

"Sounds simple," Maria added. Susannah turned around.

"Let's hope its simple enough for Maria to understand," she mimicked, pouting tauntingly. Maria scowled, and I had to tighten my grip on her hand to stop another catfight.

"…set…go!" The crowd in front of us dispersed, and the only people left in the lobby were Paul, Susannah, Maria and I. We stared at each other blankly before setting off in opposite directions. I was now fiercely determined to win this competition – not for the money, but to show Susannah and I was better than any Biology professor.

"Here!" Maria hissed, whisking a Post-it off the wall. "The first question: what four groups of organisms make up the Eukaryotes in the modern classification system?" I narrowed my eyes.

"What?"

"_Dios, _Jesse, you should know this!" she cried, impatiently. "Aren't you supposed to be the Biology nerd?"

"I prefer the term 'genius'…" I argued defensively, but I was just meant by a stony stare. "_Nombre de Dios, _Maria, I am not a walking encyclopaedia!" Maria smiled.

"That's it!" she shrieked excitedly. "We can use the library!" I shrugged.

"O.K then," I surrendered, and she pulled me by the hand up the stairs, following the gold-plated directions. The library was surprisingly quiet – considering there was a treasure hunt taking place in the building, and the library would be the ideal place to begin searching – but Maria stalked straight in, her high heels clacking loudly and echoing. I made for a shelf full of dusty scientific papers – but apparently something caught my eye.

"Jack Slater…" she muttered, and she stopped still. I was yanked back by her hand, and she gestured towards a newspaper left on a table in the centre of the room. It was a fairly recent one – the date read last week. It was local, describing in detail the latest college basketball game of the season, and featured a large picture of the same skinny boy I had seen in the picture of Paul and his brother making a slam dunk. The headline read: **JACK SLATER DOES THE JAGUARS PROUD! **I scanned through the article slowly. It gave the name of the college he attended…and then there was something else.

"What's wrong?" Maria asked, reading my expression.

"That…that frat house," I replied, shaken. "I visited there. There…there was a murder in that house only weeks ago. Four frat boys involved."

"And Jack was one of them?" Maria questioned. "Do the police know?"

"I had no idea Paul's brother was a frat guy in that house," I said. I turned to Maria. "Do you realise what you've uncovered?" She shook her head, worried. "A missing puzzle piece!"

"And the puzzle is?" Maria pouted confusedly.

"Thank-you," I gushed, impulsively taking hold of her head with both my hand and laying a quick kiss on her lips. We broke apart smiling…and then I realised what I had done.


	10. Revelations

**A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! It means a lot. Keep it up, I really appreciate it!**

_

* * *

_

_Susannah, please talk to me._

**No.**

_Why not?_

**Because you're with **_**her.**_

Chapter Ten

The smug smile on Maria's face was undeniable as comprehension dawned on my face. I whirled around quickly and began fiddling with dusty text volumes, pretending to urgently search for the answers to the treasure hunt, but in fact I was trying to organize the thoughts whizzing through my mind. What had I done?

I had kissed Maria, that was the truth. I had lost control of all my instincts, choosing to ignore the inextinguishable fire I held for Susannah and instead bestowing a – albeit, brief – kiss upon the lips of Maria De Cruz, her effective nemesis.

"There's no point trying to get out of that one, Mr De Silva," Maria crooned, slipping her hands underneath my arms to place her fingertips on my shirted chest. "You kissed me – and I have that nosy librarian to prove it." I scowled in the direction of the librarian, who was avidly trying to distract herself from staring.

"It was a mistake," I muttered, dismissively, and I tried to shake myself free of Maria's grasp. She, however, wasn't in accord with that.

"Oh no, you don't," she growled, linking her fingers with mine as I began to walk away. "One time is a mistake." She spun me around to face her indignant expression, her scarlet lips darker than ever, her black lashes fierce with incredulity. "Twice sounds like a plan." She stalked towards me, her long, thin legs prowling like a female cat. "You want to be with me."

"I'm a sophomore," I argued, reaching onto the table on our right and beginning to turn the yellowed pages for an answer. "You're a senior. It would be mixing two very different worlds." My hand froze – I had spotted the answers, and I copied it word-for-word onto a scrap of paper. Maria extended a hand to stop me.

"No, you're more afraid of her precious Susannah finding out," she disputed. "It turns out you're not as in love with her as you thought, and that scares you." She took my hands in hers. "She has Paul, Jesse. Why won't you have me?"

I avoided answering. "I have the answer to the first treasure hunt question," I announced, holding up my scrap of paper. "Let's go." Maria rolled her eyes, but clung to my hand nevertheless. Something inside of me made me keep her there.

"Never figured you were a Casanova," I heard a soothing, female voice hiss in my ear, as Maria and I examined the third clue, perplexedly. So far, we had collected a plastic foot, a plastic arm, and something I insisted was a kidney stone, though Maria was alleging it was something other than that. I turned around to see Julia James standing with her hands on her hips, perusing the coupling that new to both her and myself. I sighed at her, and she shrugged. "I had you down as a Biology geek."

"I am," I mouthed wordlessly, for want of Maria not to notice. I was lucky; she was tracing each word of the question carefully, searching her mind for the answer in Freshman Biology. I could almost see the wheels of her brain turning, and I had the answer myself, but I chose to say nothing. I suddenly had something else on my hands.

"Long time, no see, right?" Julia asked, circling Maria and I. She inspected her nails. "Yeah, it turns out there are a hell of a lot more ghosts than I thought in this world. The social scene is rocking – and there's no chance of getting murdered at a party that got a little too wild," she added, matter-of-factly. I said nothing to her, and instead turned to Maria.

"I'll be back now," I told her, and I gestured towards the piece of paper. "The answer is lipase." Recognition dawned on Maria's face.

"Where are you going?" she asked. I automatically informed her I was going to the bathroom, and she nodded. I jerked my head for Julia to follow. She floated behind me wonderingly.

"I went to the Frat house," I told her, with more spite than was intended.

"So I heard," Julia replied, lazily. "Caused quite a stir, or so I heard. Bryce Martinson's still getting violent phone calls in the middle of the night." I blushed; the aftermath of my lie was obviously still active. I heard Maria's heels start down the marble hallway, and I tensed.

"You have to go," I urged her. "Maria is coming."

"She's a firecracker," Julia remarked. "She'd come in useful if ever you needed to…oh, I don't know. Get information out of anyone?"

An idea popped into my head at that instant – the same instant that Maria appeared in my view as Julia dematerialized. I turned around to grin at Maria, who held a plastic head in her palm triumphantly. "It looks just like you," she added. I gazed at the doll's head with the glazed expression doubtfully. She placed the head behind her back and laid a gentle kiss on my lips. She sighed at my rigidity. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," I answered, convincingly. "I…I just need you to do something for me."

* * *

"Is it working?" I hissed into the microphone on my collar. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes." Maria answered so impatiently that the piece imbedded in my ear buzzed angrily. "It's working. Now shut the hell up, I'm trying to drive." I kept quiet obediently, and proceeded down the corridor towards my dorm room. I figured keeping tabs on Maria in the frat house would be easiest in the privacy of my own room.

The plan was that Maria was going to work her Spanish charm on the fraternity boys across town. I needed information – I was getting restless. I somehow had the idea that Paul was involved, and leaving Susannah alone with him for any amount of time was eating away at me.

"Hey, Jesse." I looked up to see Susannah standing stiffly against my door. Her arms were crossed across her chest, and the bruises on her faces were fading – they were either fading, or she had gotten her hands on some heavy foundation. She was also looking a little thin.

"_Querida…_" I crooned, softly, and I made towards her. She jerked nervously, and I froze. "How are you, Susannah?"

She studied my face. "I'm O.K, I guess," she answered, then she elaborated. "I'm back with Paul." My expression fell, along with my stomach.

"Oh, no, _querida-_" I began, but she raised a hand to quieten me.

"It's my decision, Jesse," she replied, fiercely. My heart sank everytime she said my name – Jesse. My name hadn't had two syllables since tenth grade. It had always been Jess around her. "Paul and I are working things out. He says he's really sorry…" She sighed. "And I believe him."

"I'm sorry for what Maria said to you the other day," I added, solemnly. "It was out of order – and you were hurt. I saw it in your face." Susannah flinched.

"It was the truth," she argued. "Don't try and pass it off as anything else." Her bottle green eyes glinted passionately. I took her hand.

"_Querida,_" I said, softly. She didn't look up; instead she turned her head as far away from mine as possible. "Susannah, please talk to me."

"No," she answered shortly. Her face was still pointed away from mine; her colour still determinedly pale.

"Why not?" I asked, squeezing her hand. She pulled it away from me awkwardly. When she spoke, her voice sounded forced, and muffled.

"Because you're with _her_."

To hear the venom in Susannah's tone as she spoke of Maria stunned me. Was Susannah finally jealous? Was she finally going to realise she was in love with me – finally going to get on her knees and beg me to marry her that instant so that we could start our lives together as soon as possible?

Perhaps that was jumping the gun just a little.

I opened my mouth say something, and then I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. I tensed, and even Susannah gasped in shock. I prepared myself for a weapon to be pressed against my head – convinced it was a frat boy who had finally sussed me out…

"Hello, Jesse. How are you doing?" I recognised that deep voice – it was same one I had heard only days ago in the large, marble museum. I turned around and embraced my former principal – Father Dominic. He seemed to look more frail than usual, but still pleased to see me.

"Father D!" Susannah cried; she seemed to have gotten over the shock of seeing him there, and was now celebrating his return with me. "How are you? Is the old broad still there in Carmel?"

"Susannah," Father Dominic warned her sternly. "Kindly do not refer to Sister Ernestine as a broad." She chuckled light-heartedly, and I bristled. It was a sound I hadn't heard for a while.

"I'm fine, thanks, Father," I answered his first question at last. "Susannah and I are settling into our second year at Hollybridge O.K, aren't we _querida_?" I noticed the corners of his mouth twitch as the endearment roll off my tongue. I blushed. "What brings you to New Hampshire, Father?"

"I was doing some work in the museum," he answered, cheerfully. "I thought I'd pop in and see how my favourite students are coping." He smiled sadly, and I returned it. Something in his reply didn't quite sound right. "But I was wondering if perhaps I could have a few moments alone with you, Mr De Silva?"

I glanced at Susannah, who merely shrugged. "I'll be off then," she said. "Take care, Father D." I locked eyes with the priest, and opened my dormitory door. "After you, Father," I offered generously.

"Thankyou, Jesse," he replied, and he walked slowly into my room. I closed the door behind us, and he sank into my desk chair heavily. He looked worried. "I need to talk to you about Susannah." Ah. Her relationship with Paul hadn't gone unnoticed the other day by him, either.

"About Susannah and Paul, you mean?" I asked, calmly. I watched him shift awkwardly in his seat, his eyes fixed on the floor. Finally, he mouthed the word 'yes'. I sighed. "I'm worried too."

Father Dominic's eyes flicked upwards. "Then why aren't you doing anything about him, Jesse? This man is dangerous!" I frowned suspiciously.

"How do you know Paul is dangerous, _padre_?" I questioned. Immediately he blushed a deep scarlet, a nervous look in his stare. That was when I realised the answer might not be easy for him to relay. I knelt before him.

"What is it, Father?" I demanded anxiously. "You need to tell me – Susannah could be in real danger!"

"She's already been hurt!" Father Dominic burst out, shaking with anger. "I may be over sixty years old, Jesse, but I am certainly not blind – and I saw those bruises on her face yesterday!"

"You know something about Paul that you're not telling me," I whispered, as if Paul could be listening in. "I need to know."

"Are you aware that I am in close contact with Paul's grandfather, Jesse?" he asked, suddenly. I shook my head – I wasn't even aware that Paul had a living grandfather. My own had passed away last year. Father Dom proceeded. "Oliver Slaski was a regular church-goer before his health deteriorated – we had similar interests, and he taught me a lot about the world we lived in. And when he needed to visit his grandsons in New Hampshire, I helped him get a passport quicker than he would have otherwise. The church, I told him, had ways."

I chewed my lip – a Susannah-esque habit that I had adopted recently. "And his grandsons are Paul and Jack Slater."

Father Dom nodded. "Paul was thankful that I had gotten his grandfather across the country so fast – he said he was in awe that I had managed to get the paperwork done so quickly, and that I should expect a visit if ever he needed something done quickly. I, of course, thought he was joking."

My dropped. "He _wasn't_?" Father D's lips tightened into a thin line.

"No." His hands twisted together. "This summer, I was paid a visit in the rectory. I believe it was the day before school started again." The earpiece crackled loudly. I flinched. "It was Paul, and he had a gun." _Crackle, crackle. _It was getting hard to concentrate. "He pointed it at my head, and demanded I had his criminal record cleaned. Apparently, there were a few blemishes on it." _Crackle, crackle._

"Did you do it?" I asked, stupidly. Father D raised an eyebrow.

"Would I be here right now if I didn't?"

My face dropped. Paul was only working at Hollybridge because of his falsely clean record – I knew for a fact that Hollybridge didn't employ anyone who was less than perfect. The question I wanted answered now was – why was his record was blemished in the first place?

"Why-" I began, but then the earpiece whistled fiercely, and I groaned. I went to wrench the stupid thing from my ear, before I heard a voice.

"I'm in."

* * *

_This is a bad idea,_ I kept repeating to myself. _This is a bad idea, and someone is going to get hurt. This is a very bad idea._

After Maria had announced that she had made it inside the fraternity house, I had told Father Dominic that I had a headache – which wasn't a complete fabrication, my ears still hadn't stopped ringing from that stupid earpiece – and he had left, first making me promise that I would take care of myself, and also keep Susannah safe. I told him I would do what I could.

And now, I was endangering the life of neither myself nor Susannah; instead I was putting my apparent girlfriend's (according to both her and Susannah) life at risk instead. No wonder I was reviewing today's Biology notes to calm myself down.

Maria had subtly asked for Jack Slater, professing to be Hollybridge's sports columnist, and had woken up this morning with an impulse to improve her school's competition spirit. Hollybridge would be playing against him next week, after all. Personally, I was impressed that someone like Maria would have any idea of who Hollybridge played at all. Then again, she _was _a cheerleader. Like a fool, Tad Beaumont had let her through the door and had shown her upstairs. Apparently, it was only me who was immune to Maria's beauty.

"So, Jack, when did you first realise you wanted to play basketball for a college team?" I heard Maria ask. I had to laugh at her professional tone. I heard Jack 'um' and 'ah' a little before answering.

"I guess back when I was like, eight or something. Me and my brother used to play a lot on the courts outside our house in Seattle." This confirmed what I already knew. I heard Maria write it down, her pencil scratching fiercely.

"That's sweet. Are you still in contact with your brother now?" Jack was silent. I could tell he didn't want to answer that question.

"I think that's a little off-topic for a sports-related article." I tensed, but then I heard Maria put the notebook on the floor, and I could almost picture her reaching out to hold his hands.

"You're not in close contact with him anymore, are you Jack?" she asked, gently. I heard him sniff. He was obviously sensitive about his brother. I heard movement – Jack had pulled his hands out of her grasp, just like Susannah had done with me.

"Should I be paying you or something? You're acting a lot like my shrink, not a journalist," he said, an air of humour in his voice. Maria laughed – her floaty giggle like windchimes.

"It just seems like you need someone to talk to," she replied. "I'm not writing anything down – it won't get published. And I'm a good listener." She was better at acting than I had given her credit for. Her sharp imagination was coming in handy.

"I guess I do need someone to talk to," Jack answered, slowly. "It's been hard – living in a house with three guys who don't give a crap about how you feel. All they care about is how many drunken girls you can get in your bed at the same, or how many jell-o shots you can chug before you throw up everywhere." Jack's voice was bitter. "Or before you do some damage." Those words struck a chord. Maria sensed it too – my suspicions still fresh in her mind from when I had explained it all to her last night.

_**"Knock, knock," I heard a musical voice call at my door, as it was pushed open. For a fleeting second, I had thought it was Susannah. I was surprised when I wasn't too disappointed to find it was Maria. "Can I come in?"**_

_**"Sure," I replied, and Maria sat herself on my bed next to me. "I'm just studying." Maria sighed, and she took my notes out of my hand. **_

_**"That's all you ever do," she remarked. "You need to have a little fun sometimes, Jesse." Her soft hands closed around my face and she brought her lips closer to mine. We brought apart gently, my confused mind whizzing. It was a good kiss.**_

_**"That enough fun for tonight?" I asked, desperately trying to grab my notes back. "Can I have my notes back?" Maria shook her head. **_

_**"I need to ask you a question first," she told me. I nodded, and so she elaborated. "What's the deal with Jack Slater? Why are you so interested in him – I mean, he's just Paul Slater's brother. I thought Paul was the trouble, not Jack."**_

_**I sighed. "There was a party," I explained, unsure of whether to give anything away. "At Jack Slater's fraternity house. A girl got murdered – and I don't think Jack is completely innocent." Maria was more understanding than I thought.**_

_**"Was this girl close to you?" she questioned, comfortingly resting a hand on my shoulder. I pursed my lips, avoiding answering.**_

_**"I think she would have wanted justice served," I settled for answering. She placed my notes at the end of my bed and slid us both backwards so that we were lying on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. She put her head on my chest – I didn't move. We just sat there. I wasn't sure for how long.**_

"Damage?" Maria asked, and my mind jolted back to the present. "What kind of damage do you mean, Jack?" Jack was breathing heavily.

"There was a party at my frat house," Jack began, and my heart began racing. This was it. "And a girl got killed. But I don't remember any of it – I think I was drunk. I can't sleep most nights wondering if I'd killed the girl. My brother covered it all up though-"

"He covered it up?" Maria's voice was excited at the discovery. "Why did he cover it up-"

The earpiece screamed in my ear, and the line went dead.


	11. Make Ups and Break Ups

**A/N Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! This'll be the last update for a week, coz I'm going on my hols! Yay! I'm actually meant to be getting ready right now - ain't I a rebel? R&R!**

**Mil**

**_P.S - Mil is sorry for the earlier mistake, but she's off on holiday now so it is I, Moonlight Silhouette, fixing it for her. With her permission of course. xD_**

* * *

_Hollybridge Heights Weekly Newsletter_

_By Cee-Cee Webb_

_First and foremost, don't forget to pay your dues to Bryce Martinson, currently residing in the hospital wing…apparently, he has some "wicked" scars he'd like to show you all…though no-one knows (not even Bryce Martinson himself, who apparently blacked out) how he got those scars. If you have any information, contact Front Office._

_Cheerleaders kicked ass this week in their meet – don't forget those spirit fingers, girls! Let's hope that our guys in the basketball team are all set to match that effort in their game against the Jaguars tomorrow…god knows Jack Slater needs to be taken down a notch or two._

_I'm sure I speak for the majority when I say… I hope to God this is a better week than last week._

_Your faithful correspondent,_

_Cee Cee Webb_

Chapter Eleven

My heart lurched, and I tore the stupid little piece of technology that I had managed to sneak away from the store cupboard in the Science Building, and threw it across the room, my hands shaking. I searched my empty pockets for my mobile phone – the most modern one, as Susannah had insisted when I went for an upgrade, though of course I had no idea how to use most of it – and eventually found it in the drawer of my desk. My fingers fumbled as they keyed in Maria's mobile number, and I was on the penultimate digit when it began vibrating.

_Maria calling._

I sighed in relief, and lifted the cell to my ear urgently. "Are you O.K?" I demanded. "What happened? You disappeared!"

"Give me a break, De Silva," Maria replied, irritably. "I just got ambushed by four fraternity guys demanding why I was 'writing an article' about Jack's personal life with his brother."

"Well it _was _a bad idea to start questioning him about Paul," I admitted, though immediately realised it was the wrong thing to say. "I mean-"

"Bad idea?" Maria repeated, furiously. "Bad idea? Let's rewind, shall we? Who came up with this ridiculous idea for me to go undercover for this stupid little mission that means nothing to us? That was _you_. Who decided that I was the one 'pretty' enough to get away with asking the personal questions? That was_ you_. And who-"

"And who found out some pretty useful stuff?" I interjected, before my eardrum burst from her squawking. "That would be _you_. We now know that Paul covered up the murder. I also know that Paul held a gun to Father Dominic's head in order for him to have something done. One thing's for sure – he's up to no good."

"I found out something else," Maria replied, and she seemed a lot calmer now. "Meet me by the campus gates in fifteen minutes." She hung up, and I sighed again. She's safe, I repeated over and over to soothe my agitated heartbeat. She's safe, and she's on her way home.

I pulled my Biology notes from my desk and began revising them, repeating Darwin's theories over and over to myself, trying to block out anything unpleasant from my mind. Images of Susannah and Paul flooded my conscience, whilst my subconscious kept flicking back to Maria, and what could have happened there in the frat house.

"Darwin's theory involving evolution was…" I muttered, trying to refocus. But it was hopeless. There was no way I was going to be able to commit to my studies now, my mind was too full. I scattered my pages across my floor irately, and threw the door open, grabbing my keys as I left.

I looked at my watch. It had only been two minutes since Maria had called, but I could be early to meet her; she'd pull into campus in that shiny silver car and see me acting like a …_boyfriend _– I shuddered – should. I forced my way through the courtyard – it seemed a little more crowded that usual – and was walking past the gym when I spied something that caught my eye.

Susannah.

And she was _crying_.

"_Querida_…" I muttered, and I changed my path so that I came closer to the green metal bench she had perched herself lightly on. Her cheeks were flushed with misery, her green eyes sparkling with sadness. Yet she had never looked so beautiful. I took hold of her hand silently and she laced her fingers with mine, squeezing my palm meaningfully. "What's wrong?" I asked her, softly.

She didn't answer me. Instead, she brought her body closer to mine and rested her head on my chest, listening to my heart pump madly. I watched her face rise and fall with my ribcage. She closed her eyes, peacefully. Several tears dribbled down her face.

"Is it Paul?" I tried, and her cold hand twitched in mine. It was Paul, I could tell. I examined her face to find no bruises, and for that, I was thankful. At least on the outside she was pristine. I ran a hand through her soft hair, twisting my fingers through each chestnut wave. She exhaled smoothly, leaning her head into my hand slightly. I held palm there a fraction of a second longer, just to feel her there in my grasp.

"It was Paul," she replied. I moved to check my watch. It had now been fifteen minutes since Maria had called. She would be waiting. I didn't move. Instead, I listened intently to Susannah's words, watching her lips form every syllable delicately. The poignant curve of her mouth made sure her Brooklyn twang was more evident than it had been for a while. "He…I found him with someone else."

A rumble of anger roared in my gut. This wasn't the first time he had hurt her. He had now purposefully broken her heart twice…and he was going to pay. Susannah felt my temper rise, and she laid a gentle hand on my heart to calm me. I softened…slightly. "Who was he with?" I asked, cautiously. Susannah sniffed.

"The lab assistant," she answered. "Carrie, I think her name is. Carrie Whitman. She was homecoming queen back in RLS, when we were in junior year. Almost got killed in that car accident by Big Sur." I nodded in recollection. My lab partner Mark Pulsford had told me all about her – apparently, she'd passed up an acceptance at Hollybridge, and found a job here instead. Mark had been in awe of her 'beauty', and would gawp open-mouthed whenever she entered the room. I had always been too busy admiring every curl on Susannah's head to notice how any other girl looked.

"She's beautiful," Susannah mused, sadly. I shook my head fiercely.

"She is nothing compared to you," I informed her firmly. "I hear she has blue eyes. I, personally, prefer green eyes." Susannah giggled in my arms.

"Liar," she replied, amusedly. "Maria has brown eyes." I thought back to times I had spent with Maria. Only now did I realise properly what colour Maria's eyes were. A deep brown – chocolate…like mine. It was all too coincidental when I heard her voice shriek my name. I cursed rudely in Spanish, and I could tell by the way Susannah squirmed in my hold that her ears burned.

"Jesse!" Maria yelled, her high heels clacking against the sidewalk as she marched through the courtyard. "Forgetting some one, are we?" I checked my watch – it had been half an hour. Oops. I jumped off the bench, and made my way towards her.

"I'm sorry, Maria, I-" But she was looking past me; she had spotted Susannah. Recognition dawned on her face, and her expression turned sour. She looked back at me, scowling.

"So sorry to have interrupted," she said, coldly. "Wasn't anything _important_, was it?"

"Sounds like you're jealous," Susannah remarked, just as icily. She jerked her head in my direction. "You want to look out for that, Jess. Over-protective bitches are the worst kind." Maria growled.

"Be nice," I mouthed to Susannah, and then I turned to face Maria, who was fuming. I tried to reason with her. "I'm sorry," I attempted, though I knew my case was lost. "I lost all sense of time – and I found Susannah upset…"

"Oh, of course," Maria replied, sarcastically. "Susannah has to come first. I get that. It's always been like that. I'm the one who's your girlfriend, but it'll be _her_ who's your first priority."

"We were never an established couple," I said, quietly. "It was just kind of… assumed." I felt horrible saying it, but it was true. I hadn't had any choice in the matter.

"Assumed?" Maria repeated, dangerously. "By who?"

"You," I whispered. Susannah snorted from behind me. "I'm sorry, Maria," I said again. But Maria wasn't having any of it.

"Well, I know there's not much point in saying this," she announced, and she stood with her hands on her hips. "Seeing as we were never a 'couple'-" She mimed quotation marks. "But we're over."

"Glad to hear it," Susannah chimed in. I whirled around to shoot her an accusing look. When I turned around again, Maria had disappeared. I threw my hands into the air, exasperatedly.

* * *

I trudged back to my dormitory begrudgingly, annoyed at myself more than anyone. I had never had anybody in my life besides Susannah, and she had always come first no matter what. She was my best friend, the only person I spent time with – except for my family on national holidays. When she had been torn away from me, only then had I turned to seek company from someone else. 

I slid the key into the lock miserably, and pushed my door open, almost slipping on the papers scattered across my carpet. I picked them up wordlessly – not even bothering to order them – and turned on my computer. It was times like this that I needed to read the news – there had to be _somebody's_ life that was worse than mine.

**You have 1 new email.**

I clicked **Open** and read the message. It was from Maria, and I traced it tentatively, not sure of what it may hold.

_I thought you might like to know that I found out why Paul covered up the murder. It turns out Suze isn't the only student Paul's been fooling around – in fact; he had a little bit of a reputation. If he had one more fling, then his degree would be terminated. That didn't stop him – he started with this chick from Hollybridge, I didn't get her name. Jack was the only one who knew about it, and Paul saved him to keep him quiet._

I stared at the screen in awe. So his relationship with Susannah wasn't a fluke – in fact, it was the normality for Paul. I felt sick – disgusted that she had just been another one to add to his résumé. I doubted she meant anything to him. I contemplated how I could reply.

**What a bas-**

Delete, delete, delete.

**The jer-**

Again I pressed the delete button. I sighed, repeating several possibilities over and over in my head. Eventually, I just settled for a simple, no-strings-attached answer.

**Thanks**

I turned off my computer and sat in my chair silently. I could Susannah in my head now, curled up into a little ball, sobbing over someone who didn't matter. Someone who used her until he could find someone better. Paul didn't deserve her tears – and I was going to make sure she wasn't going to waste any more on him.

For the second time that day, I marched determinedly out of my room, this time collecting my coat as well as my keys before I shut the door. I chose not to distribute my papers across the flooring this time, to ensure my safety when I returned.

What was Susannah's dormitory number again? It had been so long since I had paid her a visit – or so it seemed. It had only been a month and a half since the new school year had started, yet it felt like so much longer. I had started and ended a new relationship already – something that went completely against my usual nature.

I made my way to Susannah's dormitory hall – at least I remembered that – and then found my way to her room by examining each and every door that I passed. It was easy to tell which one belonged to hers by the rock band stickers Cassie had stuck carefully to the wood. There was also a whiteboard stuck to the door, reading "Cassie and Suze". That was kind of the major giveaway.

I knocked once, but when there was no answer I pushed the door open anyway. I could always rely on Susannah never to lock her door. It was one of those things I was constantly reminding her about. "_Querida_?" I called out, and I spied her, just as I had predicted, in a ball on her bed. As I walked into the room she tried desperately to pretend she hadn't been crying. I frowned.

"Susannah, he is not worth your tears," I said, firmly, and she sniffled meekly.

"I _know_," she moaned. "But it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." I smiled sadly, and I took a seat next to her, pulling her into my arms and cradling her gently. She nestled into my neck cosily, inhaling deeply. "It's been a while since it's just been you and me, hasn't it?"

"Yes," I answered. "I've missed it."

"Me too." She kissed the base of my throat gently, and then began stroking the skin with one smooth finger. I chewed the inside of my cheek, confused. I wasn't sure if I had figured out the mood correctly. Our relationship was purely platonic – or on her part, at least. Or so I thought…

"You've always been there for me, Jesse," she whispered, and she moved her neck so that she could lay a gentle kiss on my chin. I writhed slightly, bewildered. Her hands remained on my neck, gently caressing my collarbone. I cleared my throat.

She moved even higher, and the breath caught in my throat. She was going to…no, she wouldn't…

She lifted her head just slightly so that she could lay a gentle kiss on my stiff lips - too gently. I wasn't sure if I had imagined it or not. She rested her forehead against mine, her eyes still closed, her expression tortured.

"Oh Jess," she groaned. "You're such a good friend."


	12. Dishing the Dirt

**A/N First and foremost, may I apologise for the _huge _mess I made of the last chapter. It was entirely my fault - in a rush to get my next chapter up for my lovely readers before I left for Cornwall, I uploaded the wrong chapter, therefore leaving you with two chapters exactly the same! Can't say sorry enough, really, but some of you got way mad!**

**Secondly, thanks so much to my ever-reliable Moonlight Silhouette, who saved my behind whilst I was away having fun on holiday. Thanks for uploading the _right_ chapter. I'm glad you all could read the right chapter fairly quickly after I made my mistake. Thanks again, Meg.**

**Thirdly, thanks to you for reviewing. Please keep it up - don't punish me for my mistake!**

* * *

_Bulletin_

_From your Headmistress, Mrs Hollybridge_

_Due to the mishaps at the Halloween dance last Wednesday (namely involvement from a rival school, and an unprovoked attack against our star sportsman Bryce Martinson) there will be __no__ Halloween celebration next year._

_Also, those in Mr. Slater's sophomore biology class, please take note that your essays are due in Friday. He asks that some of you take more care in your studies than in your social lives, please._

_Your headmistress,_

_Penelope Hollybridge_

Chapter Twelve

**Creationism is a religious belief that…**

I groaned, and pressed delete for what seemed the hundredth time that evening. I had written this essay once already, yet in some temporary loss of sanity had managed to wipe it completely from my computer hard-drive. Now I was left to pick up the pieces from my dishevelled notes and whatever else I could remember.

**There have been many arguments over the theory of intelligent design because…**

_Susannah kissed me._

I shook my head. Whereas my mind should be filled with Darwin's theories and the many speculations about evolution, all I could recall was that magical moment last night in Susannah's dormitory. She had kissed me – properly, on the lips. I still wasn't completely sure if I had dreamt it.

_**"Oh Jess," she muttered. "You're such a good friend."**_

I groaned. There was the rub. That little thing that had convinced me that I hadn't dreamt it after all. The pang of reality that had brought my head back down from the clouds. Susannah didn't love me – any more than in a friendly way. I was just her moment of weakness; the only one close to her in her vulnerable state…and I had taken advantage of it. I rubbed my forehead furiously and tried to settle back into my Biology paper. I didn't see much point it in really – Paul Slater's red F stamp would appear inevitably. But I knew I would never forgive myself if I didn't try at all.

"Knock, knock." I froze at the sound of soft knuckles on my door, and Susannah's sweet voice. "Anyone in?" I remained silent, falling victim to my cowardice. I didn't feel ready to face her yet – not with the embarrassment I was sure to face. She would demand why I kissed her back, why I didn't stop her. She would demand I tell her truth about how I really felt…

Finally, I heard her pad away, down the long corridor. I breathed out, slowly. I was safe – for now. I turned back to my laptop, and managed to tap out another 100 or so words. My heart wasn't in it; my passion for Biology consumed by my hatred of Paul Slater and more recently, myself. My best friend had needed me to console her, and I suppose I had just confused her even more. I was no better than the man I had previously prided myself on being so morally superior to.

My stomach rumbled, and I suddenly realised I hadn't eaten breakfast. I glanced at my digital clock – it read 2:00pm. I groaned again. The cafeteria would now be packed with over-zealous freshmen and their enormous appetites – I would be lucky if I could snag half a sandwich. I fished in my pockets for some change, and found a few dollars' worth. The vending machine it was.

Pushing back from my desk on my wheelie chair I slowly spotted how disgustingly untidy my dorm had become. There was even underwear on the floor! I hurriedly cleared the floor and opened my curtains, sighing. That would have to do for now. It wasn't like I was going to receive any visitors today. Slipping out of my door – first checking that neither Maria nor Susannah were coming down the corridor, I made my way stealthily to the living area, where half-stocked vending machines stood without queues. I exhaled in relief and helped myself to a packet of Cheetos and some Ring Dings. There were times when grease was the only food group to go.

Chewing thoughtfully, I mulled over the rambling content of my essay with distaste. It seemed like I was going to have to visit the library – or the science block at least. I discarded my Cheetos packet and dropped back to my dorm room – just to pick up a notebook and a few pens. I'd try the science block first – it always seemed more informative than the library any day. The most educational piece of work you'd find in Hollybridge library was _Jane Eyre_.

Once again checking my path was clear, I moved swiftly into the courtyard, before noticing it was completely empty. No shrieks of hyena-esque laughter bounced off the stone pillars, no empty chip packets fluttered across the stone tiles. It was completely empty. I proceeded into the science block more comfortably, yet not without being a little freaked out.

As soon as I entered the science block, however, I suddenly realised why Hollybridge was so deserted. The walls were plastered with angry orange flyers. I seized one and scanned it quickly – the bold print of **CONCORD CARNIVAL **– hurting my eyes after so many hours of being in the dim light of my dormitory. I stuck the flyer back to the notice board and hurried up to Room 201 – Professor Lipman had always been my most useful resource. Yet halfway up the stairs, I froze.

I had heard a familiar giggle.

Heart heavy, I crept up the remains of the stairs and peered into Paul Slater's laboratory, preparing myself for a sight that surely break my heart… Kelly Prescott making out with Paul Slater?

I gasped in surprise at the turn of events. Instead of spying Susannah with Paul – which was the situation I had been preparing myself for – I had found something that could work in my favour. I could capture this tryst and present to Penelope Hollybridge – finally finishing Paul's career and sending him out of our lives for good. My heart leapt with excitement as I fumbled for my camera phone, fingers slipping on the keys with anticipation. I shifted my body so that I could get the best picture possible – making it obvious that it was both Kelly and Paul in the photo.

_Click._

I had to control my gag reflexes as Paul's hands travelled up Kelly's shirt. His brown fingers danced their way up her slim ribcage, and I held my breath as I moved my cell closer.

_Click._

Another ripple of raucous laughter echoed through the lab, and I shivered. It was bad enough to hear Kelly's superficial giggling in Biology class – only God knew how Kelly Prescott had gotten through freshman Biology last year – but now when really I had a choice whether or not to endure it, it was even worse.

_Click._

There – I had three photographs. That was enough to show Mrs Hollybridge; enough to convince her to fire Paul Slater. I closed my phone carefully, making sure the photos were saved first, and made my way back down the stairs and out of the science block, breathing heavily. My heart thumped loudly as my subconscious began to unravel what might have been – what if Paul had caught me snapping away?

Having never been called to the Headmistress' office, I was unsure of exactly where it was. I followed the path into the main building, following the visitor signs to the reception. They would have to direct me from there. I cleared my throat, and the pretty receptionist stood to attention at once.

"Can I help you…sir?" She fluttered her eyelashes. I raised an eyebrow.

"Where's the Headmistress' office?" I asked her, urgently. The receptionist fluffed her hair nervously, and checked a map on her desk. I tapped my foot irritably. _Dios, _this was taking more time than it was worth.

"You take a … right, and then a left…and then another right…I think," she replied, chewing a nail whilst half-heartedly studying the map. She laughed mostly to herself and handed me the map. "Here, babe, you take it. No wonder I failed Geography in High School!"

I smiled politely and took the map from her, to find that every direction she had given me was completely wrong. I took a left past the reception and kept on going, until I found a gold plate that told me I was in the right place.

**PENELOPE HOLLYBRIDGE III**

**HEADMISTRESS OF HOLLYBRIDGE HEIGHTS**

I took a deep breath, and knocked once with a shaking hand. For ten, long seconds I was greeted with silence, until suddenly a low feminine voice invited me in. I reached for my phone in my back pocket and inhaled again.

Twisting the doorknob, I pushed the door open.

"Mrs Hollybridge? I think I have something you need to see."

* * *

I breathed a sigh of relief, and closed the Headmistress' door behind me, my phone still in there to be kept as evidence. Penelope Hollybridge was on the phone to her board of governors right now, informing them of the controversial news. Next on her agenda was to fix an appointment with Paul…and fire him.

I couldn't believe my luck. Mrs Hollybridge hadn't questioned me at all, and instead examined my photos and admitted that they were indeed of Paul Slater and a student. She was heartily disappointed that one of her students could be so foolish, though she was impressed I'd had enough bottle to come to her with the evidence. That should give you some idea of how unbelievably suck-up-ish I felt after that.

Wandering back into the courtyard, I passed Paul Slater. Avoiding his gaze, I saw instead that several of his shirt buttons were undone. I shuddered – that _had _to be Kelly's doing. Mrs Hollybridge's voice sounded over the speaker, like Cee-Cee Webb's did every morning during the morning announcements.

"Can Paul Slater please report to the Headmistress's office? Immediately."

My stomach swooped – I wasn't sure if the feeling was nerves or pride. Either way, I watched Paul amble out of the courtyard and into the main building, knowing that I would never see him again. The sun appeared from behind a cloud – poetic really; it reflected just how I was feeling.

I sank into a wooden bench pensively. I hadn't spoken to Susannah for nearly a day – not a record, by any means, yet it still felt strange. I needed to clear the air.

But did that mean telling her how I felt?

"Jesse!" A low voice yelled my name cheerfully. Knowing it couldn't possibly be Susannah, but turning around optimistically nevertheless, I saw Mark Pulsford making his way towards me – on crutches, yet smiling. "Hey dude," he greeted me. "How are you?"

"How am I?" I asked, rhetorically. "What about you? You were the one who was _stabbed_." Mark winced at my harsh words, and he shook his head. Bandaging from his stomach wound was evident, as the tail of it dropped from underneath his sweater. He rubbed his forehead.

"I know, dude," he replied. "But I can't remember it. I mean, the nurse was like 'Oh my God!' and I even had the freaking police in to see me…but I can't remember who stabbed me, or why. Or even where!"

I patted his shoulder sympathetically. "No worries," I said. "I'm sure whoever did it is going to pay." Mark smiled.

"I told the cops to drop it," he informed me. "I mean, I'm fine, right? And no-one's going to be leaving me on my own for a while – I have my own personal helper until I walk probably – so no-one's going to attack me. It could've even been me who stabbed me!" He laughed whole-heartedly, his handsome face grinning in the wan sunshine. I smiled back, but then excused myself.

"I'm sorry, Mark," I said, patting his shoulder again. "But I gotta go see someone." He raised an eyebrow.

"A _girl_ someone?" he asked, and I just stared back blankly. He looked impressed. "Nice to see Jesse De Silva is finally getting some action." I was stung.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. Mark smirked.

"Everyone knows that you've been hung up on that Suze chick since you met her back in Carmel," he answered, shrugging. "I mean, it's written all over your face – even when you're not with her. Someone only has to say her name and your whole face lights up." I blushed.

"Thanks for enlightening me," I said, clapping him on the back. "But I gotta go."

"Good luck!" Mark called after me as I dashed across the courtyard. All of a sudden, my mission was clear. I had to tell Susannah how I felt – it was now or never. My heart in my mouth, I sprinted to her dormitory building. It was strange what I was feeling – excitement, fear…and also some sense of relief. The feelings that had been bubbling uncontrollably for too many years were finally coming to the surface. Finally I would know where I stood.

All too soon I was faced with the wooden door dotted with stickers and ruled by the whiteboard reading "Cassie + Suze". I hesitated before knocking – this situation was way more daunting than entering the Headmistress' office like I had done only half an hour ago. I raised my hand carefully, before knocking. Not to my surprise, the door was unlocked, and it edged open as I knocked politely. I pushed it open, already preparing my speech.

"Listen, _querida-_" I was stopped short.

"Ah," said Paul, with a sneer. "I was wondering when you were going to arrive."


	13. The Chase

**A/N I've had no internet connection since about Wednesday, so sorry the update took a while! I really want to get this finished, along with all my other fics by Xmas, so that I can give you guys something new to read in the New Year. I've written the first two chapters of it, and hopefully you won't have that long to wait!**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

"Slater," I growled, and Paul's eyes glinted. "Why aren't you in the Principal's office?"

"I move fast," he answered, simply. "I decided not to stick around once I'd been _fired_." He flicked a look of disdain in my direction. "Didn't sound like much fun, dwelling on my unemployment." He began to patrol across the bedroom, but I froze in the doorway. I should have gotten out then.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, fists curling. "In Susannah's bedroom. When you have no right to even be teaching here, let alone prowl about in your former student's dormitories." Paul smirked.

"Thought I'd return some of Suze's underwear," he sneered, and he held up a flimsy pair of black panties. I scowled, and watched him drop them onto Susannah's pillow. "I'm thinking she left them in my office."

"I'm thinking they belong to Kelly Prescott," I corrected, and the smile disappeared momentarily from Paul's face. "Isn't she your latest squeeze?"

"You think I don't know it was you, who somehow convinced _Penelope-_" I noted that he was obviously on first-name terms with her. "-that I was off playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with Carmel Barbie? Thanks for getting me canned, by the way."

"Not a problem," I replied, acidly. "But considering you just got fired, shouldn't you be packing right about now?" Paul grinned.

"In your ideal world, yes," he answered, and my grip on the doorknob tightened; my knuckles turning white. "But considering you're an interfering son of a bitch, shouldn't you be dead right about now?" My heart lurched as Paul's hand fished slowly in his trouser pocket.

"You're going to kill me?" I asked – trying to sound as sneering and disbelieving as Paul did, yet my voice shook slightly with nerves. "With what, Slater?" I continued, coolly, scanning Susannah's dormitory for any possible weapons. "A – A hairbrush?" Paul released a bubble of raucous laughter.

"No," he snorted, and he pulled a shiny gun from his pocket, examining the metal with a critical eye. The fingers on the doorknob went numb. I cleared my throat, my legs rooted to the spot.

"Where's Susannah?" I demanded, the anger in my voice detectable. Paul's eyes narrowed devilishly; his expression malevolent. He chuckled; his arrogance causing a chill to run down my neck.

"She's in…brotherly hands," he informed me, and at that second, I knew where she was. He had her in the frat house, across town. Under the supervision of the men – no, children – that killed Julia James. My brain flicked onto autopilot; all of my academic knowledge wiped out by fear. There was only one thing to do in a situation like this, my brain told me.

_Run._

I ran out the door, yanking the wooden door shut as I sprinted, and sped down the hallway, my thunderous footsteps echoing in the quiet; my heartbeat thudding in my ears. My palms were sweaty, and my instincts told me it would only be a matter of time before I would be followed.

"Come back, you coward!" roared Paul from the other end of the corridor; I didn't turn back. A loud _bang _and a gentle whizzing told me Paul had fired his gun – a golden bullet sped past me, inches from my ear. I halted suddenly, making a left, my pulse quicker than ever. Paul liberated another growl; his anguish rebounding off the walls as I reached the double doors freeing me to the empty courtyard.

I threw myself against the double doors, breaking the glass in one of the panes, and cutting the skin on my cheek. Wiping a sweaty hand across my face, I carried on, desperate for some form of escape. My feet pounded tirelessly against the stone, my calves aching, begging for rest. My adrenaline, however, wouldn't allow it. I whirled around to see Paul making his way through the double doors. I spun around again and starting running, only to collide with Maria.

"Run," I urged her, seizing her hand and pulling her along with me. "We don't have much time."

"Jesse!" she cried worriedly, and she ran besides me, her fingers trapped in mine. "What happened to your face?" Drips of red fell onto the collar of my shirt. I ran a hand across my jawline to stop it, and waved her question away indignantly.

"That's not the point," I breathed, as we crashed through the English corridors, Paul in close pursuit. Another bullet flew past us, only missing Maria because I pulled her out of the way. Thank God Paul had bad aim. "Jack Slater has Susannah. I need your help, Maria."

"You know," Maria remarked, with a sad smile as she sped along besides me, her cheeks flushed. "Sometimes I wish it was me you were always rescuing."

"Be grateful you never need rescuing," I told her, but squeezed her fingers platonically. We burst onto the long stretch of road at the front of the school, which was, like the rest of the campus, deserted. I hadn't passed any people during our chase – even Mark had managed to hobble along to the Carnival, or so it seemed. The school was eerily empty. Paul kicked the wooden school door down seconds after Maria and I had, and he pointed his gun directly at my head.

"Paul…" I pleaded desperately, ashamed at myself for dropping down to the levels of begging. But I needed to stay alive – I needed to rescue Susannah. Maria released my fingers nervously, and I didn't blame her. _Go,_ I wanted to urge her. _Get away now, while his attention is focused on me_.

Several faces appeared behind Paul, faces of staff that had remained on site despite the carnival. I breathed a giddy sigh of relief, and Paul frowned at my comfort. He whirled around to see Mr. Perch, my Freshman Year English Lit. professor, as well as several student teachers cowering in fear.

"Young man, put the gun down," Mr Perch commanded, and I saw the veins in Paul's head as his anger grew. His hands began to shake, his grip on the gun loosening, or so it seemed. Paul yelled furiously, and pressed the trigger.

"No!" Maria cried, but it was too late. Mr. Perch fell to the floor dead, and several student teachers cried out in horror. Maria fell into my shoulder, sobbing with shock, but I needed to get her to safety.

"Run!" I cried to the student teachers, who dispersed quickly, and Paul swivelled to face me again, his expression mixed. I wasn't sure if I detected any guilt for what he had down to Mr. Perch, but I could definitely sense anger. I swept Maria into my arms quickly and began to run down the stretch of road, gunshot blasts following me.

"Where's your car?" I asked Maria, hurriedly, and she squeezed my neck, distressed. She lay limp in my arms with fear and shock, unable to move.

"Parking lot," she murmured, and I followed her directions across the piece of lawn to find her car, whilst dodging bullets from Paul's gun, knowing any minute I could get shot dead, just like Mr. Perch had been.

"You have to run," I whispered, to Maria, gently lowering her to the floor as I sprinted. "You're too heavy – we need to get to the parking lot quicker."

"Run all you want, De Silva!" screeched Paul, across the large space of air between us. His voice was uneven and inane.

Loud bangs told me that Paul had fired again, though I didn't know who had been hurt. I had found Maria's car, and I threw her into the passenger's seat. "Keys," I ordered, which she shakily gave me. I stepped on the accelerator nervously, causing the car to groan beneath my feet. It sped out of the parking lot, passing the school. Paul was edging backwards, closer to the motorbike that he had parked outside the building.

I saw Mrs Hollybridge run to Mr. Perch's limp body, her face white with shock. She was held back by her assistant, who bravely stood in front of her, guarding her from any bullets.

"Mr. Perch!" Mrs Hollybridge's dismayed tone wept, and her cry echoed through the school. "Mr. Slater, put the gun down!"

To my surprise, Paul threw the gun to the floor with a clatter. The moment his back was turned, the gun was seized and turned on him, and men crowded around him to stop him from making a quick mistake. Paul, however, leapt onto the motorbike and kicked the engine to a roaring start.

"Paul's following us," I hissed, and Maria trembled.

"What do we do?" she asked, fearfully. I glanced at the speedometer as I stepped on the accelerator tentatively again.

"We go as fast as we can," I replied grimly. Paul's motorbike closed on us as we prowled down the stretch of road. Maria leant over my leg timidly and pressed her heel to the accelerator, and my neck snapped backwards as the car rocketed towards the school gates.

"If you want to see Suze alive, you're going to have to be a man," she informed me, icily. "So for God's sake, act like one." I frowned, and kicked Maria's foot from the accelerator, placing my own foot there instead. I reached into my ashtray, and handed her my cell phone.

"Aim for his head," I told her, as we turned a corner, braking harshly at a red light. "When he comes around the corner, aim for his head." Maria tittered hesitantly.

"You're kidding right? A cell phone?" I looked at the silver in her hand, whilst keeping my other eye on the traffic lights.

"It's all I have," I replied. "I hope you have good aim." Maria exhaled shortly.

"Of course I have good aim," she disputed, defensively. "I'm a cheerleader – we girls have fabulous hand-eye coordination." The light turned green, and in my wing mirror I spotted Paul whiz around the corner and quickly catch up. Maria stuck out her tongue in frustration. "Now!" she whispered to herself, and I watched mournfully as my cell phone left her palm…and hit Paul squarely between the eyes. His dazed body slipped off the motorbike just as we pulled away.

"Oh my God…" Maria whistled appreciatively for her direct hit. "He's going to be O.K, right?"

"I think the more important question is, will be Susannah be O.K?" I corrected her, speeding around another corner. The frat house had to be around here somewhere, I didn't remember it being so far away before. I examined the rows of houses carefully, watching for any clue that might lead me to Susannah.

"Uh…Jesse?" Maria asked, laying a gentle hand on my arm. "There's something you should know." My stomach lurched – _surely _she wasn't about to confess her feelings for me at a time like this? I scolded myself – I shouldn't jump to vain conclusions. I turned another corner, and twisted my neck so that I could look at Maria earnestly.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Paul is-" Maria began, but I interrupted with triumph.

"That's the frat house!"

"-still following us," Maria concluded, and the car shuddered to a noisy halt outside the red-brick house. We sat in silence, watching Paul turn the same corner, and slide serenely beside us. His cheek sported a tarmac burn, and his left eyebrow was marred by a faint bruise, but he was still capable. Capable of walking, of talking…..

Of killing.

"You know, you'd think that if something exciting was going to happen, someone would inform me." Julia appeared in the back seat, and poked her head between mine and Maria's. She gazed at the red-brick house. "Huh. I know this place."

"Race you inside," Paul challenged, and I thrust my car door open at the exact second that he jumped down from his motorbike. Even in his leathers he could run faster than me up the steps, and he pushed me onto the flowerbed. I jumped up and lunged for his legs, causing him to topple over. Maria exited the car and ran up behind us, Julia is close pursuit.

"Man," Julia muttered, watching as Paul and I wrestled for our lives. Maria was busy wrenching a hairpin from her head so that she could attend to the door. "This _so _beats the Concord Carnival."


	14. Punishment

**A/N I think I'm a fan of this chapter. I'm hoping it will inspire you to click the little periwinkle button at the bottom of the page :-D**

**Warning: This chapter contains violence and death. Happy days.**

* * *

**Bulletin**

**From your Headmistress, Mrs Hollybridge**

_Due to the tragic and untimely death of Mr. Perch, all students will be allocated a day from lessons in order to attend his memorial service._

_I expect everyone there – especially the English majors. Please remember this is a particularly stressful time, and we need to be united as a school._

_Penelope Hollybridge_

Chapter Fourteen

"Argh!" I roared in anguish as Paul wrenched my arm awkwardly behind my back. I raised my leg to kick him in the groin, and he rolled off me, leaving me to jump up from the stone floor and recover my surroundings.

"I'm in!" Maria cried triumphantly, waving her hairpin in the air. Julia grinned, and followed her inside. Paul lay writhing on the floor; I gave him an extra kick for good measure, and then started towards the frat house, ready to recover Susannah. However, Paul – obviously his recovery was instant – reached for my ankle. I fell to the floor, crumpled.

"You thought you were going to get away so easily?" he asked, chuckling menacingly. "Please, give me some credit, De Silva." I yanked my foot from out of his reach, and scurried after Maria and Julia, Paul close behind me.

As I pulled the front door open, I saw Maria rush up the last few stairs, and into a door upstairs. My heartbeat tripled as I raced after her, not wanting her to get hurt for Susannah or me. I tripped up the stairs, my limbs clumsy in my panic. Paul reached the bottom step as I reached the top – and my heart leapt. I was ahead – for now.

I followed Maria through the first doorway, into possibly the largest bedroom I had ever seen. A giant double bed lay at the furthest end, adorned with golden material, and a large painting above the headboard. A sleek computer sat at an oak desk close to the bed, and a pinball machine stood next to a plasma screen television…in front of which Susannah was sat, with her hands tied behind her back, and her mouth bundled with rope and rag. The sides of her mouth were red and raw.

"Susannah," I breathed, and her eyes flicked upwards to meet mine. I saw a brief glitter of relief flash across her pupils, before Jack Slater noticed my arrival also. He stood up, elongating his neck as he stretched, boasting his broad shoulders. I swallowed as I saw his round biceps. I cleared my throat. "My name is Jesse De Silva."

"Dude!" Tad cried, from opposite Jack. "So you're _not _Bryce Martinson?" A buzz of confused and angry muttering swept across the room. Tad joined Jack, along with a fellow fraternity brother. My hands curled into fists, shrinking along with my confidence. I couldn't take four frat guys, even with my frequent visits to the gym. If they turned on me, I was a goner. I couldn't go forward…

"Jack!" Paul called from behind me. I saw Jack's teeth glint maliciously.

"Paul," he grunted, and Paul pushed me out of the way so that he could join the line of boys obstructing my path towards Susannah. "Looks like you're gonna have to leave your girlfriend here, pretty boy."

"According to what I heard," Tad inserted, guffawing. "She wasn't _his _girlfriend." He jerked a head in my direction. "She belonged to Blue." _Blue?_ Paul grinned, his cerulean eyes flashing dangerously, and my mind suddenly made the connection.

Blue was Paul. Paul had been the one the frat guys had thrust the blame onto when I had interrogated them – the one that had taken the blame for Julia's murder. It all made sense now – why hadn't I made the connection before.

"That's them," Julia whispered in my ear, suddenly materializing behind me, instead of beside Maria, where she had been standing. "The four there…" She swept a hand in front of her to signify which ones. "But it wasn't him." Paul was the one her finger pointed towards. "That's Paul, right? He didn't do it."

"He jut covered it up," I muttered, but Paul's eyes narrowed at the movement of my lips. With a jolt of my stomach, I suddenly realised Paul was a mediator too.

_**"…you won't say anything, will you Jesse?" Her eyes were pleading. I dropped my pen and frowned confusedly.**_

"_**What was that?" I queried, realising I'd only caught the end of her sentence. Susannah chewed her lip nervously.**_

"_**He's a mediator, Jess," she replied, gently. "He told me so himself."**_

He could hear every single word Julia said to me.

"I knew it!" Paul thrust an accusing finger in my direction. "I knew that bitch had been telling you things!" He launched himself at Julia, who dematerialized beneath him. Paul leapt to his feet, embarrassed. He swung around to indict me again. "I knew that you'd been to Beaumont House," he continued, and my mind flashed back to the day Mark was stabbed.

_**"Come in," Paul announced, and he dropped his cell phone from where he had been holding it to his ear. He looked kind of white.**_

"_**Are you alright?" I queried. Lord knows where my sudden politeness came from. Inwardly I was spitting and hissing at him.**_

"_**Mr De Silva," Paul said, acknowledging my presence suddenly. "I think you and I need to have a chat."**_

Paul had just come off the phone from his brother – who had informed him of my visit. He must have given him my description – Paul had attacked me, not Bryce Martinson. And then Mark got in the way…My stomach swooped, and I began to feel queasy.

"Mark got hurt that day," I growled, but no ounce of guilt showed on Paul's face. "Mark got hurt, and it was all because of you." A gasp came from behind the frat boys, and Susannah stood, pink-faced and shocked. Maria was still flat against the wall, trying to be invisible.

"He was an obstacle." Paul dismissed Mark nonchalantly. "You should have died that day, Jesse De Silva. If you had died that day, I wouldn't be standing here right now, finishing the job a month and a half too late."

"If I had died that day," I corrected him. "Susannah would be dead too, from your abuse. You think your treatment of her went unnoticed?" I exchanged a glance with Maria. Paul followed my gaze, but instead chose to push apart his brother's friends, and kneel behind Susannah's chair.

"My treatment?" he repeated, menacingly. He removed the rope and rag from Susannah's mouth roughly, and pulled her face closer to his. "My treatment was only what you could not give her." He grinned. "_Pleasure_." He kissed Susannah passionately, but I noticed her hands wring in discomfort in her lap. Paul broke apart, unsatisfied. His head snapped towards Jack. "Bring me the other girl."

Jack look confused. "The other girl?" he asked. He whirled around to see Maria tremble against the wall.

"No!" I yelled. I couldn't have Paul hurt both the girls in my life. Jack fixed an iron-like grip on Maria's wrist, and yanked her towards him, dragging her to Paul and Susannah. He threw her to the floor, where she remained, shaken.

"Looks like its decision time, _Rico Suave_," he snarled, and he drew a knife from his pocket, pressing it to Susannah's throat. Her gasp got my heart pumping twice its normal speed. Jack chuckled, and pulled a gun from his pocket. He then aimed it at Maria's head. I swallowed uneasily.

"Who's it gonna be?" Paul asked, smiling slightly. "Susannah Simon – the subject of your unrequited love?" Susannah's eyes grew wide at his revelation. "Or Maria, who's used to being second best?"

I growled. "Maria is _not _second best," I argued. "I wouldn't be standing here right now in this house if Maria was second best." Maria shook her head sadly.

"Jesse…" she said, but groaned as Jack pressed the tip of the gun against her temple. "You love her. It's _Suze._" I looked from Susannah to Maria and then back again, my mind rushing with all the pros and cons of each girl…before I shook my head. I couldn't choose between the two – it was immoral, it was inhuman…and it was impossible.

"Tick, tock," Paul reminded me, tapping his watch impatiently. I took a deep breath.

"I'm not deciding, Paul," I replied, determinedly. "You're just going to have to kill me instead." Maria and Susannah cried out.

"No!"

Paul pushed the knife a little further into Susannah's skin, causing a red mark to appear on her flesh. Jack had Maria's wrist in a vice again that guaranteed she couldn't escape. "That would be none of the above," Paul answered, in false pity. "Looks like we're just going to have to kill them both."

"I don't think so, son. Put your weapons down." I whirled around to see two police officers standing in the bedroom doorway, but I wasn't relieved. What Paul had done to Mr. Perch, he wouldn't hesitate to do again to two police officers. Jack surrendered the gun immediately, breaking his hold on Maria. She ran back to me, burying her head in my shoulder. Paul however, picked up the gun from the floor, and twirled it between his fingers.

"Afternoon, officers," he said, nonchalantly. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Are you Paul Slater?" the first officer asked, making no move to arrest him. "The owner of the motorbike out front?" Paul simply smiled. The first officer made to withdraw a gun from his belt, but Paul got there first. With one quick shot, the cop fell to the floor, dead, a red river flowing from the wound in his forehead.

"Back-up, I repeat, we need back-up!" The second officer roared into his mouthpiece, and he seized me by the shoulder, throwing me into the hallway, along with Maria. "Clear out son, we don't want you to get hurt."

"Go," I urged Maria, who scampered down the stairs willingly. I then faced the police officer defiantly. "I have to go back in – the love of my life is tied to that chair."

"This is a job for the police," the officer answered, gruffly. "The police can handle it!" He gave me another firm push. "Go!"

"The police obviously can't handle it," I replied, resolutely. "Because your colleague is lying face down on that carpet!" I gestured towards the open bedroom door. The second officer sighed, and threw me a taser. I nodded, and we ran into the bedroom; attacking being our only agenda. Tad Beaumont threw himself against me to block my path – I simply pressed my weapon to his abdomen and he fell to the floor, unconscious. The buzz still rang in my ears.

"Hey!" A boy I didn't recognise stepped up to avenge his friend. He had the type of face that was just asking to be punched. His pointed chin and wide eyes gave him the apparel of a choirboy, though his sharp sense of style and his brown floppy hair told me otherwise. He had a letter bracelet around his wrist, reading "Craig" – obviously from a girlfriend. "That was my best friend you just zapped." I rolled my eyes, and threw a punch to his jaw, causing him to wince and clutch his mouth meekly. I punched him again whilst he was still whining, and he collapsed next to Tad. I stepped over the bodies, satisfied.

"Someone get De Silva!" Paul roared, kicking Susannah's chair out of his way as he charged towards me. The chair slid into the wall, and I heard a sickening crack as Susannah's skull collided with the brick.

"Susannah!" I cried, but I was knocked to the floor by a skinny boy – one I'd seen in the frat house before. I pushed him off easily, but then was hit back again by Paul, who pressed a knife to my jugular instead.

"Stupid, _stupid _Jesse," he snarled, his hot breath dangerously close, and the knife blade even closer. "You thought you were so much better than me. So gallant, so noble, so _of course _Susannah would fall in love with you eventually." He scoffed. "I always admired your gullibility." He pressed the knife harder. "And now you're going to die."

"Officer Charles, we have back-up!" An urgent voice called from the doorway, and gunshots sounded in the air. Paul's body froze, and a rarity spread across his face: fear. Now he was officially outnumbered.

"Paul Slater, you're under arrest for the murder of a Mr. Arthur Perch." The third police officer glanced down at his colleague. "And of Officer Deane, I assume?"

Paul rolled off me for a second time, and he packed a punch at the officer. Two colleagues rushed to help, but he instead placed two hands on Paul's shoulders, and threw him across the room. Paul pulled his gun back out from his pocket. "I'll shoot," he warned, and he swung the gun to aim it at me. "I'll shoot an innocent!" He grinned. "Someone's gotta finish this guy anyway."

"Mr. Slater, put the gun down!" The second officer yelled, after he had Jack pushed up against the wall. "Put the gun down and maybe you won't get such a hefty sentence!"

"Liar!" Paul screamed, his misery echoing through the shocked bedroom. "You say I'll get a shortened sentence, but it's all a load of crap!" His fingers trembled on the trigger. "You just want me to come quietly, hold my hands out for the cuffs." He snorted. "Good luck with that." A click told me Officers 2, 3 and 4 had all pointed their guns at him. Paul however, in his current insanity, didn't look bothered.

"Wait," Jack argued, and he broke free of the second officer's grip. He threw himself in the line of Paul's aim, blocking me from sight. The police held their fire, confused. "Paul, what are you doing?"

"Saving your ass," Paul informed his younger brother, angrily. "Now move out of the way, Jack."

"Are you really saving me?" Jack persisted, disbelievingly. "I did something bad, Paul, and I know it. You covered it up, and in turn, I told nobody about your latest fling with a student, so that your qualifications wouldn't be terminated. But you know what; I'm through with putting up with your crap. I'm turning myself in." He threw up his hands, and turned to the police officers. "I'm confessing to the murder of-"

"No!" Paul yelled, and his fingers trembled again, this time, pressing down on the trigger. A loud blast told me he had fired, and in the same direction as the gun had been pointing. At his brother. Jack fell to the floor, clutching at his weeping heart. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and Paul threw the gun to the floor as he raced towards him. "Jack," he said, wrapping an arm around him. "Jack, it's going to be O.K."

"You…sh-sh…" Jack couldn't finish his sentence. Instead, blood bubbled out of his mouth as his wound continued to bleed. With a shudder, his head fell into Paul's lap, and his limbs went weak. I threw myself to my knees before him.

"Jack! No!" Paul yelled, and the officers rushed to arrest him in his vulnerable state. "Jack!" The second police officer wrench Paul's arms above his head and handcuffed them; Paul didn't even protest. "JACK!"

I felt for a pulse in Jack's wrist, and then in his neck. I examined the wound; the bullet had imbedded itself in his heart. I wiped the blood from Jack's mouth with my shirt, feeling frantically for a heartbeat. I was greeted with silence. I turned to face Paul, who had been pulled to his feet. "He's dead," I told him. "Paul, I'm so sorry…"

"He's not _dead_!" Paul wailed, and he began to fight against the police officers, begging to return to his knees so that he could attend to his dead brother. "Jack! JACK!"

"Paul Slater, you are under arrest for the murder of several personnel…"

"JACK!" Paul sobbed, his chest heaving heartily as he was dragged out of the room by three policemen. His protesting yells could still be heard downstairs, as he was pulled through the door and into the awaiting police car. The remaining policeman stood before me, watching me continue to perform various checks on Jack.

"Call an ambulance," I insisted, delving in my pockets before realising that my phone had been used to hit Paul earlier. "Call 911!" The policeman pulled his cell phone calmly, and called for an ambulance.

"You're wasting your time, kid," he said, as I pressed down on Jack's stomach. "The guy got shot. He's dead."

"I'm just a trainee doctor," I whispered. "I could be wrong." My voice cracked.

"You did all you could," the police officer said, comfortingly. "But he's gone. He'll be declared dead at the hospital, you'll see." He helped me up, my limbs weak with shock. "I think you need to sit down-" A buzz from his walkie-talkie interrupted his advice. "Yeah, I called an ambulance. Officer Deane's been hit, along with Slater's brother. We got two kids here needing some treatment for shock." I turned around to see Susannah slumped in her chair. I hurried as fast as I could, and shook her softly.

"Susannah. Wake up." She moaned, lacing her fingers with mine. A small, faint bruise was on her temple already. I traced it lightly, and she growled in discomfort. I laughed nervously, and she squeezed my index finger.

"What happened to Paul?" she asked, her eyelids fluttering. "Is he…is he O.K?"

"He's been arrested," I informed her, as paramedics come through the door. "You were out for most of it. Are _you_ O.K?" She didn't answer my question, and instead scanned the room confusedly, before spotting Jack lying on the floor.

"Oh my God!" she cried. "Jack – Jack's dead?" I couldn't hold it back any longer. I threw my head into Susannah's lap and released a series of hysterical sobs, my whole body shaking. Susannah cradled my head wordlessly, stroking my hair.

"There wasn't anything I could do," I whispered, and she caressed my cheek comfortingly. "It all happened so fast and Paul had been going to shoot _me…_" Susannah's incessant, soothing shushing caused me to close my eyes and rest my head on her knee. "I tried…_querida_…"

"Thank you so much for coming to rescue me," she said, gently, her fingers still running through my curls. "I didn't think you would, after what happened the other day…"

"I would _always _rescue you," I informed her passionately, sitting up and staring into those green, green eyes. It felt like I hadn't seen them in years. "No matter what happens between us… I love you."

"Oh, Jesse," Susannah replied, breathlessly, but I didn't give her time to continue. I took her face in my hand, and got onto my knees, heart pumping. Then I extended my hand to behind her neck, and pulled her lips closer to mine, pressing my own mouth to where it should be.

On hers.


	15. I Love You

**A/N Thanks for all the reviews so far! Not sure if this should be the ending chapter. I did have another planned - a final epilogue - but if you're all begging for this story to end...let me know.**

**I think this chapter should be dedicated to all of you. This is the Sesse you have all been waiting for. Hopefully.**

_

* * *

Dear Mr. De Silva,_

_Due to the events of yesterday afternoon, involving a Mr. Paul Slater, you are henceforth excused for the remainder of this week's lessons to recuperate. I suggest you pay a visit to the infirmary, along with your friends Miss De Cruz, and Miss Simon. Again, let me praise you for your courage and determination._

_Penelope Hollybridge_

_Headmistress of Hollybridge Academy_

Chapter Fifteen

A week off from lessons – a week of bliss in any other student's opinion.

For me, however, it was hell.

I watched my toes work off the excess energy as I lay slumped on my bed, bored out my mind. I had managed to strain a pectoral muscle in my fight with Paul, and so half of my chest was covered in blindingly white plaster. I was pretty much confined to my dormitory, on the school nurse's orders, with the exception of leaving to eat, and to study in the library.

Maria had sprained in her wrist from the struggle with Jack, but there was no permanent damage. She sat at the foot of my bed, sketching furiously. I saw with amusement that it was a sketch of a palisade cell. I smiled – my enthusiasm for Biology had obviously rubbed off somewhere.

Susannah was sat at my computer, checking her emails and IMing some of the cheerleading squad. She had been allowed back on the squad, due to her "traumatizing and stressful ordeal", as Mrs Hollybridge had worded it. She sat now, with her right leg crossed over her left, and her tongue poking out as the creases in her forehead told me she was deep in thought. I wondered what she could be thinking about – I knew there was only one thing occupying my mind.

"_**I would **__**always **__**rescue you," I informed her passionately, sitting up and staring into those green, green eyes. It felt like I hadn't seen them in years. "No matter what happens between us… I love you."**_

"_**Oh, Jesse," Susannah replied, breathlessly, but I didn't give her time to continue. I took her face in my hand, and got onto my knees, heart pumping. Then I extended my hand to behind her neck, and pulled her lips closer to mine, pressing my own mouth to where it should be.**_

_**On hers.**_

There had been a painful silence as we had broken apart, only to be interrupted when a young paramedic asked if we would follow him downstairs and give our statements to the police. We had spoken separately, and then been driven to the hospital, where we were treated for shock. Maria and I had been given the all-clear, driven back to school by Mrs Hollybridge herself. Susannah, however, had to have a CT scan on her head. She was released the following day, but our paths hadn't crossed until this morning.

"Hey Jess," she had declared cheerfully, as I had opened my door. She brandished her personal letter from Mrs Hollybridge, and I opened the door wider. She skipped past me, sneaking me a quick wink before she scuttled over to gossip with Maria.

Susannah clicked the mouse once last time, before dropping down from the chair onto the floor, and pulling a nail file from her pocket. It always surprised me how girls just came magically equipped. Maria stopped sketching as she heard the scratching of the nail file and watched Susannah for a second before asking. "Can I borrow that when you're done?" Susannah smiled.

"Sure," she replied, and she surrendered happily. I rolled my eyes. A month ago the two girls would have been scrapping on the floor over a nail file – over much less, in fact. Now they sat cross-legged opposite each other, swapping possessions. Susannah picked up the sketch pad and flipped the palisade cell over, so that she had a fresh page. She plucked the pencil from Maria's side and began drawing.

"Anyone hungry?" I asked, as I watched Susannah's fingers slide across the paper as she drew quickly. I saw shapes begin to form – a face, a body…ten, long fingers. She drew in a broad nose and thick, dark, curly hair. I lifted my arm to run a hand through my own, before realising who the drawing was of. "Actually…Maria?" Maria's head jerked up as her concentration on her nails was broken.

"Yeah?" she answered. I bit my lip.

"Could you run down to the vending machine? I felt in my pocket for some change, before dropping the coins into the palm of her hand. "I would go, but…" I put a hand over my chest mournfully, hoping she would buy it.

"Sure," she replied, and she stood up, dropping the nail file into Susannah's lap. I waited until I was sure Maria was down the hallway, before speaking up.

"That's a nice drawing, _querida_." Susannah almost jumped inches into the air, and immediately she scrabbled to hide the picture. I leapt off the bed and clasped her fingers in mine, dislodging the pencil. It flew into the air, and landed with a clatter. My heartbeat sounded ten times louder in the awkward silence. I reached backwards to lock the door, before continuing.

"That's a picture of me," I said, my voice nervous. She glanced down at her sketch tentatively, before nodding slowly. Her fingers were still trapped in mine, and her body was close to mine as I wrapped my legs around her on the floor to stop her running away. This time, we were going to have the talk.

"We're friends," she added, defensively. "Why shouldn't I draw you? We're friends. _Best _friends." She repeated again, as if she was trying to convince herself.

"We kissed," I reminded her. "Twice." Susannah chewed her lip as she thought about her next response.

"I was upset…confused…" I pressed a finger to her lips to stop her excuses.

"_Querida_…" I interrupted, and she sighed peacefully at the endearment. She nuzzled into my neck silently, and my heartbeat got even faster. She giggled, and pressed an ear to my chest, her fingers drumming on my arm.

"If you go any faster, you're going to explode," she informed me. I wrapped two protective arms around her. "Why is your pulse so fast?"

"It's what you do to me," I explained. "I can't live without you, Susannah. You're my life...you know that I love you." She smiled.

"You didn't give me chance to reply, back at Beaumont House," she answered. "You cut me off – not that I was complaining." She ran a finger down my muscled arms. "But ever since I broke up with Paul-" I winced at the mention of his name. "I realised something." I pressed my chin to the top of her head. "It wasn't him I had feelings for. It was you – and I was just too scared to express them."

"Why were you scared, _querida_?" I asked, softly. "I would have never scorned you – not even if I hadn't felt the same way." She wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Because we were best friends. I didn't want to wreck what we had."

"Well, so much for that," I laughed, and I leaned in to press a kiss to her lips…

"Hello!" A knock at the door interrupted us. "Why is the freaking door locked?" Susannah snorted into my t-shirt. It was Maria, and she was drumming an impatient fist on the door.

"Just _one m_inute," I called back, before capturing Susannah's lips in a breath-taking kiss and leaning forward to deepen it. Right about then, I think my heart did explode.

* * *

I knocked softly on Susannah's door at four o'clock the following afternoon. She had spent the whole morning at cheerleading practice, and I had mourned her absence. We had spent all night sitting and watching the stars, talking like we used to do. Obviously, there was another item on our agenda – something we would have never done before. But every time my lips pressed against hers, it felt like they had never left hers.

I'd walked her to her dormitory, and she had flirtatiously asked me if I'd like to spend the night. I had declined, as a true gentleman should, simply kissing her fingertips and wishing her a goodnight. She had grinned back, her perfect teeth flashing a smile I had never seen before. Everything was different now – but for the better.

"Susannah," I called gently. The door was pulled open slightly, and I took that as an invitation to come in. I exhaled smoothly before proceeding, to find Susannah doing battle with her cheerleading sweater. "_Querida…querida, _do you need any help with that?"

"No," came a muffled yet impertinent dispute, though I noticed she was trying to force her way out of an arm-hole. I tried not to burst into peals of laughter. She cleared her throat. "What – ouch – what are we doing today? DVD fest? Ooh… ice skating?"

I looked at the picnic basket at my feet and smiled. "Not quite," I replied. "I thought we'd visit Jack." An irritated squeak erupted from beneath the jumper, and Susannah promptly fell onto her backside. I rushed to her side and eased her up, guiding her head through the correct hole at the top.

"That's a good idea," she said, pensively. "I mean, it's not like he's going to have many visitors. The frat guys are under supervision, awaiting trail, and Paul's in jail already. Who else does he have?"

"Us," I answered. I gestured to the picnic basket. "And then I thought we'd stop off in a clearing somewhere and have a nice, leisurely picnic." Susannah rested her chin on my chest peacefully.

"How romantic," she whispered, dreamily.

"I do try."

Susannah made me turn around whilst she attended to her under-lying T-shirt, and I stared at the ceiling, whistling politely. When I turned around, only minutes later, she was dressed in a sparkly purple top and was applying lip gloss to her already made-up face. I didn't question her speed – I just decided it was simply a 'girl-thing'.

"You look beautiful," I told her. "As always." She smirked, and pulled the dormitory door shut.

"Liar," she snorted. "You've seen me at seven-thirty in the morning. There's no possible way you could even think that." I smiled, and placed a protective arm around her, glad I finally had something to protect: a girlfriend.

"You're always beautiful," I reinforced. "You might as well give up the ghost now, there's…" I trailed off. _Ghost._ "_Querida_, there's something I have to tell you."

Susannah stopped walking down the corridor. "What?" she asked, worriedly. "Jess…your face. It's all white. What's wrong?" I took a deep breath, and placed both of her hands in mine.

"Do you remember the day that you told me you were a mediator?" I began, and she nodded slowly.

"Of course." She was credulous. "It was my first day at Junipero Serra."

"Yes," I continued. "You told me that very first day, and I didn't question it."

"You were the best friend I could have ever asked for," Susannah interrupted. "You weren't even doubtful for a second! I couldn't believe it-" I held up a hand to silence her.

"I'm a mediator too, Susannah," I blurted out, and a sense of relief washed over me as she smiled. She mock-punched me on the arm.

"No way!" she cried, excitedly. "That just proves how perfect for each other we are. I mean, Paul was all "ooh, I can see ghosts," but he not once helped one out. Look at the way he treated that girl ghost at the frat house!" She narrowed her eyes. "You were helping that girl ghost, weren't you?"

"Yes," I answered. "She was killed by Jack and his frat brothers at a party, that's what Paul was on about when he said he was saving his brother." Susannah nodded.

"Their friendship was always so forced," she contributed. "Like there was only one reason they put up with each other." It was my turn to nod.

"Jack knew about Paul's relationships with his students, and in return, Paul knew about the drunken murder. Both had to keep quiet in order to keep their secrets safe." We thought about it for a moment, in solemn silence.

"I'm so glad I have you," Susannah sighed, after a few minutes, and she embraced me gratefully. "Good, guiltless Jesse. Please don't ever change." She squeezed me around my waist, before taking a stern step backwards and frowning. "I mean that," she enforced. "If you start wearing leather and riding a motorbike and smoking, and killing people-" She was on a passionate rant. "-then there will be no more kisses from _these _lips."

I took her in my arms. "You wouldn't," I challenged.

"Oh, I would."

"We'll see," I replied flirtatiously, and I dipped her into a flamboyant, passionate kiss in the deserted corridor.

* * *

"Rest in peace, Jack," Susannah whispered, and she pressed a kiss to the cold gravestone. I knelt down and placed the white flowers to the soil, bowing my head. I hadn't known Jack well, but I guessed that his life would have been a lot simpler if he hadn't been a Slater. Susannah seemed to acknowledge this too, her cheeks were damp as she perused through the what-might-have-been's.

"It's a nice place to rest," I observed comfortingly, caressing Susannah's shoulders lovingly. "Look at the foliage – I mean, so much fauna and flora…"

Susannah couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Jesse," she gushed. "My little Biology nerd. Can't take you anywhere without you making some kind of scientific-esque statement."

I raised an eyebrow. "Scientific-esque?" I repeated. She frowned.

"I want to be a marine biologist," she replied impudently. "Not an English professor." I took a few steps sideways and knelt down at Mr. Perch's grave. Susannah did the same, locking her icy fingers with mine. "I can't believe Paul did that," she said, softly. "Mr. Perch…he never did anything wrong…"

"I know." I kissed Susannah's hand. "It really makes you think we should enjoy life while we have it."

"I know I'll enjoy every second I have with you," Susannah stated, happily. "I love you, Jesse."

"I love you too, _querida_." I bristled at the cool wind and gazed up at the sky. "It's getting dark; we should get back to the car."

"What about our picnic?" Susannah inquired eagerly. I chewed my lip thoughtfully.

"How about an evening picnic," I replied, and Susannah smiled. "I know, I know," I proceeded, taking note of her contented expression. "I just keep getting more and more romantic every second."

We carried the picnic things into a clearing in the wood, and by this time, the sky had turned a light purple as the sun began to sink. We laid the mat down, and I prepared a small fire from leaves I found on the floor. We sat by the orange flames, sipping lemonade from plastic cups and eating sandwiches. I'm not sure how long we stayed there, after all the food had been finished, and all the beverages drunk. We linked fingers and kissed beneath the changing sky for what seemed like hours.

Susannah broke away from my lips suddenly and gasped. "A shooting star," she said admiringly. I looked up to see another dash across the sky, and I traced its trail with my finger. Susannah took hold of my finger and kissed it. "Make a wish," she told me, just as another flew above us.

I thought hard for a few seconds before realising. There was nothing I could wish for. Because I had everything I had ever wanted right with me there.


	16. Epilogue

**A/N: Well, I'm afraid my friends, the end is nigh. May I just say how much I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this fic (although the epilogue gave me a bit of grief) and how amazed I am at the response. Thankyou to all who reviewed, mainly (bear with me):**

**_hotapps, EchoingSilence, inzie23, ixi-shaz, colorfascinationxo, Scorpiongurl324, Nishalini, Xx Tohru xXx Seraphina xX, Kaytee Jay (of course!), laurenereads7, Querida1607, fattoad, Nathaniel773, Jesse's Querida Forever, Foolish Angel in Darkness, Laura (because it's so much easier than ur penname), Shabaz, and finally (saving the best till last) Megan :-) (right-hand woman) for their constant support and reviews. Thankyou to the less-consistent reviewers too, your opinions are always appreciated._**

**And even though this Author's Note took up like 200 words, I still managed to leave out my left-hand woman! What is wrong with me! A special note goes to Deema for my stupidity, and all of her extrememly long and detailed reviews. You go girl. :-D**

**Please excuse the diploma. It took forever to find out what went on one, and even now I'm still convinced I'm wrong.**

* * *

_**The Board of Regents of the University System of New Hampshire**_

_**Hollybridge Heights**_

_In recognition of the successful completion of the_

_requisite course of study and on nomination of the Faculty of_

_**Department of Communication**_

_By virtue of authority granted by the charter by the state of New Hampshire_

_hereby confess upon_

**JESSE DE SILVA**

_The degree of_

_**Bachelor of Arts**_

_**Biology**_

_With all the honors, rights, and privileges thereunto appertaining _

_In witness thereof this diploma is granted and the Seal of the University and the signatures of the President of the University and the Secretary of the Board of Trustees are hereunto affixed._

Epilogue

_Two Years Later_

As I stepped outside of the exam hall, it felt like I hadn't seen sunlight in days. I stretched, welcoming the warm rays, before instantly worrying about what I had written down on the paper.

"Meiosis is the process by which one diploid eukaryotic cell divides to generate four haploid cells often called gametes," I recited, closing my eyes in an attempt to slow my breathing. "Mitosis is the process by which a cell duplicates the chromosomes in its cell nucleus, in order to generate two, identical, daughter nuclei." _Please let that be what I wrote down on my exam paper, please please please… _I felt a cool hand on my arm, and immediately calmed down. Everything was alright now.

"Jesse, please relax." Minty-fresh breath was blown into my ear as the calm voice spoke to me, and I felt all of her fingers close around my face. I opened my eyes to see Susannah standing before me, smiling affectionately. "It's fine. You and I both know that you aced that exam."

"Our last exam," I said, mournfully. Susannah released my face and scowled playfully.

"You're going to miss studying, aren't you?" She grinned, and linked fingers with me. "You're going to miss the excuse for reading through your classwork every night and reciting off by heart. You're going to miss showing off!"

"I am not," I protested, but was distracted when she nuzzled into my neck. "_Querida_…"

"Personally, I am happy to see the back of Biology," she said, cheerfully. "I don't even want to think about anything scientific. Except…" She smiled flirtatiously and walked two of her fingers up my neck seductively. "The sexual side, of course." I blushed.

"Susannah," I hissed, scandalized. "I thought we discussed that! I am not…"

"Yeah, yeah, until we're married." Susannah waved a dismissive hand in the air, and her diamond ring caught the light. She seemed to notice this too, and she dropped her svelte hand onto mine, admiring the gem. "It's a beautiful ring," she mused. "It must have cost you heaps." I stroked her hair calmly, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Anything for you, _m__í__a_," I whispered. "I love you." She wrapped her arms around my waist. She giggled.

"Well, good," she replied. "I don't just marry anyone, you know." We walked into the courtyard, and sat down on a bench, the wan sun tickling our faces gently. Susannah rested her head on my chest. "Wasn't it this bench we sat on when we first saw Paul Slater?"

"Ah," I said softly. "Paul Slater. Have you been to visit him at all?" Susannah snorted in disgust. "I'll take that as a no."

"We're not all saintly and forgiving, like you are, Jess," she answered. "I don't think Paul deserves anyone to visit him. He's a-"

"Hey, Suze! Jesse!" Our heads jerked upwards in unison as we saw Maria run towards us through the double doors, carrying several hundred coloured flyers. She handed one to us, and we read quickly. Maria was having her annual end-of-year party – a party I hadn't been invited to until the end of my sophomore year, and her first attempt at a senior year. She had failed her finals twice in a row, and this year, she was pleading to the Gods that she had passed.

"How did you find this year's exam, Maria?" Susannah asked, grinning.

Maria waved a dismissive hand. "Easy," she said, thoughtlessly. "Then again, it should be easy to me. I've done this stupid year three times now."

"But if you had passed the first two years, you would have nearly have met Mark," I argued, and Maria smiled romantically. At the beginning of this year, Maria had traipsed into Senior Biology and taken a seat in front of Susannah and I, expecting the chair beside her to remain vacant. However, it had been taken almost immediately by a very eager Mark Pulsford, who had been vying for Maria's attentions since freshman year. After a lot of begging, she had agreed to go out on a date with him. Now, they were the hottest and heaviest couple on campus.

"So can you guys come?" she asked, enthusiastically. Susannah and I exchanged glances.

"Of course," Susannah replied, for the two of us. "I mean, it's not like we have anything better to do." Maria winked in my direction.

"Yeah," she contributed. "From what I hear, Jesse is refusing to entertain you until the wedding night." I blushed scarlet. Maria began cackling. "Aw, I'm only teasing you, Jess. You know I love you – we're like cousins, practically."

I pulled a face, and she walked away, handing flyers out to passers-by, and tacking the coloured papers to walls and she passed them. I placed my own flyer to my side and turned my attentions back to Susannah, who was re-reading her invitation. "_Querida_," I said, softly. "Do you insist on embarrassing me constantly, simply based on my morals?"

Susannah smiled, and placed both of her hands around my neck. "Oh, Jesse," she said, good-naturedly. "You know I love you. I just wish you didn't live so much in the nineteenth century." She laughed. "It's the twenty-first century. Couples are allowed to do stuff before marriage."

"I want it to be special," I protested, mortified that I had to explain it out loud. "And that's final." Susannah pouted. I kissed her cheek gently. "I love you, Susannah," I added. "I don't want to disrespect you."

"I know." She kissed me on the lips, closing her eyes slowly. Then she stood up, scanning her invitation one last time. "The party starts in three hours. I better start getting ready."

I raised an eyebrow. "It takes three hours to get ready?" Susannah laughed; her chuckle like wind-chimes. She presses her lips to mine one last time, before walking away.

"You should know that by now," she called back to me.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, I emerged from my dorm wearing a dress shirt and a pair of grey trousers that Susannah had pushed me to buy last year. I had only spent ten minutes on myself – seven of those minutes desperately trying to tame the beast that was my wildly curly hair – yet I knew Susannah had been in her room for much longer, and still wasn't going to be finished by the time I reached her room. 

"Susannah?" I called, rapping gently on the door. "Are you ready yet?"

"Come in!" Susannah' strangled voice echoed into the hallway. This obviously meant that she was not ready yet – had I expected anything different? I pushed the door open, and sat down on her bed. She was sat at her vanity table – a present from her parents last Christmas, pushed into place by me heeding her strict instructions – applying what seemed to be orange paint. I raised an eyebrow.

"_Querida_…" I began. "What exactly are you putting onto your face?" Susannah rolled her eyes.

"It's foundation, Jess," she explained. "It hides all of my imperfections." I tossed aside the pile of photographs I had been admiring and stood behind her. I bent down, so that I was level with her reflection, and watched her rub pearls of foundation into her skin.

"Susannah, you do not have any imperfections," I argued. "Except possibly the fact that you are irritatingly modest." Susannah swatted me away with her make-up-covered fingertips.

"Go sit on the bed," she ordered me. I ignored her, and instead picked a pink lipstick from beside her make-up bag. I twisted the tube, watching the pink stick twirl. Susannah had progressed to eye shadow, carefully rubbing the brush onto the palette, before applying it to her skin just as cautiously. I couldn't resist leaning forwards and smearing pink lipstick onto her cheek. She froze, her eye shadow brush mid-air, mouth sagging.

"Tell me," she said in shock. "That you did _not _just do that."

"I did not just do that," I repeated innocently, though of course I was still holding the offending lipstick. She grabbed hold of my hand, dislodging the lipstick, causing it to fall to the floor. Her fingers still clamped around mine, I stroked her tinged cheek, and she kissed me passionately, clearing space on her vanity as she pushed me into the chair, our lips still attached. She sat across my lap, extending her hands around my neck as she prolonged our parting.

"_Querida_?" I asked, amusedly. "Aren't you mad that I just-"

She interrupted me with a jab of eyeliner to my cheek, drawing inventively on the skin below my eye. I raised a hand to my face, stunned by her sneaky movement. She had been distracting me with a kiss, getting ready to pounce. "What did you…?" Susannah climbed off my lap so that I could see what she had drawn. It was a black heart, smudged slightly from where I had reached to rub the stinging skin. "Crafty, very crafty…"

Susannah grinned, contentedly. She sat in front of me on her vanity table, her legs crossed daintily. She watched me, expectantly. "I never had you down as a dirty player, Miss Simon," I said, my eyes twinkling. "Very clever. Still…I refuse to take part in such a foolish children's game…" My one hand moved upwards to stroke her hair; her head melting like butter into the palm of my hand. She played with my fingers, her eyes half-closed. My other hand moved swiftly behind her back to close around a bottle of bubble bath, and lifted it; poised so that it could tip over her head at any second…

_Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssht!_

I was met in the face by shaving foam, and nearly choked on it. Susannah had deviously reached for the shaving foam at the same time as I had reached for the bubble bath – but she had gotten there first.

"Two can play at that game, De Silva," remarked Susannah, as she hopped down from sitting at the vanity table. "Almost had me there, though – I'll give you that."

"_Querida_…" I begged persuasively, and I held the bubble bath behind my back. I acquired my 'puppy-dog' – as Susannah often referred to them – eyes and blinked ingenuously at her. "_Querida_, please. I am fed up of these childish games…" I stood up, and my fingers curled around her wrist. "Well." I cleared my throat. "Almost." I tipped the entire bottle of bubble bath over her head, and watched as the pink gloop dropped from the ends of her hair and onto her shoulders. I wiped the remains of the shaving foam from my chin. Susannah was rooted to the spot with surprise.

"I am going to the bathroom, Susannah," I announced, and I began to walk away. "When I come back, can we please go to this party?"

She scowled at me, and wringed her hair of bubble bath. She watched me turn my back, and then ran to catch up with me. "Oh no, you don't-" she began to say, but she tripped over the can of shaving foam and collided with me, knocking the two of us onto her bed. She lay on top of me, breathing hard and collecting her surroundings. I raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure this wasn't all part of your plan?" I asked. She giggled.

"Well," she replied. "It _is _pretty convenient." Our eyes locked on to each other's. My cell phone began to buzz angrily in my pocket, and I pulled it out, not removing my gaze from Susannah.

"Hello?"

"Jesse De Silva, where the hell are you? My party started fifteen minutes ago, and I was counting on you guys to be on time!" Her irate voice was kind of amusing to hear over the phone. I knew that if I was standing face-to-face with her, however, I would not be laughing. Maria's wrath was a terrifying thing to face.

"Maria," I said aloud, so that Susannah would understand. "Hello to you too."

"Maria?" repeated Susannah. She giggled. "Oops." I nodded.

"Are you going to show up any time soon?" Maria demanded. Or at least, I think that's what she said. It was hard to really concentrate at that time, considering the fact that Susannah had started to pepper my collarbone with kisses.

I held a hand over the mouthpiece of my cellphone. "_Querida_!" I hissed. "I'm trying to talk to Maria!" Susannah, however, did not surrender. Instead, she began to make her way up my neck. I squirmed – it just so happened that that was where I was most ticklish. "Susannah…"

"Um, hello?" Maria's impatient voice sounded down the other end of the line. "Earth to Jesse?"

"Maria?" I pressed the phone to my ear again, as Susannah began to unbutton my shirt. It was proving very hard to push her away. "I'm afraid…err…Susannah and I are going to be a little late…to your…err…party..." I was losing concentration. I dropped my phone to the floor, though I could still hear her persistent buzzing. But I wasn't bothered.

I realised, as Susannah's lips attached themselves firmly to mine, that I had more pressing matters.

**THE END**


End file.
